Private Bliss
by Kitty Howell
Summary: Oakland Academy wasn't exactly Travis' scene, but he had his reasons for going and that was what mattered. Then he met Wes Mitchell, and he found himself with a reason he didn't mind having.
1. Chapter 1

**Private Bliss**

**Chapter One: Robot from Space**

(A/N) Yes, I should be writing Barely Legal. I just couldn't help myself! I would like to thank my wonderful beta, Maryjane! She's always amazing. ****

Important Note: This story may be taken down eventually, if the site really intends to go through all the M stories and take out the ones that are MA. If this happens, or if you wish to go there now, you can find this story on A03 under the same title and penname KittyHowell(no space). 

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_Oakland Academy - Home of the Cardinals. Where Your Dreams Begin!_

Travis frowned at the mural painted on the wall opposite the front doors of the school. He was already late for his first class, but he wasn't in any hurry to get there. Slowly, he walked to his locker and shouldered his backpack off and plunked it onto the floor, the thud echoing in the silent hallway. He shoved the books the admissions woman had given him in his locker, and snarling slightly, stuffed the red blazer in the back, not caring when it fell off the hook. Then he carefully hung up his leather jacket before closing the black door and checking the map for the first time to see where his class was.

The school was large, the shape reminding Travis of a hotel or a small castle. It had high ceilings and extremely clean white floors. The halls were wide, and the black lockers looked as if they were brand new. There were inspirational posters and paintings all over the school, some, Travis noticed, were done by previous students who signed their work along with the date it was done and when they attended. Travis made note of the exit and entry points, the weaknesses of the building and the strengths. He passed a door with the words 'Staff Only' written on it and felt the familiar urge to do something wrong. He almost opened the door, but stopped himself at the last minute. Always the curious one, Travis would have no problem finding out what was down there − if he didn't already know.

The lower half of the school had Kindergarten through Eighth grade, grades nine through twelve comprising the upper level. Travis couldn't imagine being at Oakland for his entire schooling, but then again, Travis couldn't imagine himself being in one place for very long. He was only ever in one home for so long, usually just less than a year before he moved onto the next one.

Allowing himself one last look down the deserted staircase, Travis continued on towards his class, whistling as he went. Two girls were walking towards him down the hallway. They both looked him over before giving each other scandalized looks. The blonde whispered to the brunette and the two laughed as they passed, no longer paying him any attention. Despite the rather negative vibe, he gave them a charming smile, and watched their backsides as they walked. They were alright, he decided, though they might have looked better if the girls uniform showed a little more leg. He missed public school, missed the girls in their short shorts and tank tops. They were teases, really, but Travis didn't really mind. He didn't need them for anything more, and he wasn't sure he'd be getting any here.

Although he was generally good-natured, Travis couldn't help but pick apart every little thing about the school. The uniforms, the kids, the overly optimistic mural, and the stupid mascot. Why couldn't they have something like a tiger? Something with a little more bite and a little less tweet. Though, admittedly, a tiger probably wouldn't be such a good idea. The red and black uniforms coordinated with the bird, and Travis didn't think the school could look any stupider than being dressed in Halloween colors all year round.

He reminded himself he was there for football and, more importantly, to get his previous foster mom off his back and he didn't need to have anything more to do with the school than that. Subconsciously, he loosened his red and black striped tie for the fifth time since he put it on this morning. He felt claustrophobic, which meant he was feeling out of place. Being who he was, that didn't happen often nowadays, and when it did, he always managed to fake it. He'd been in foster care all his life, and if that had taught him anything, it was the art of deception. His tie was barely on now, but Travis didn't care. He would probably get in trouble for it but he was actually looking forward to that more than anything else. He was curious about the type of discipline the Academy would dish out.

When he finally made it to his class − a total of five minutes after he made it to school and twenty minutes after he was supposed to be there − he walked in with only a second of hesitation. If he went in, there was really no turning back and he wasn't sure he could make it through an entire year with the prep school kind. He could barely stand his teammates right now, and all they ever did together was practice the last three weeks before school started. He had to remind himself of why he was doing this before stepping in the door, his face instantly falling into his fake grin. He wouldn't fit in, but that didn't mean he had to let everyone hate him. He could have most of his teachers, if not all of them, charmed in a couple days. Then he could skirt by, doing just enough to make Principal Sutton happy. He'd had tons of acquaintances at his old schools, and very few people he actually called his friends. He knew it would be different at Oakland. He'd probably find a friend or two, at least someone to do the partner projects with. That was probably all, but Travis was perfectly okay with that.

Everyone's eyes fell on him the moment he walked in, including the teacher's. She was pretty and Travis found himself smiling at her long legs before actually looking up at her face. She may or may not have noticed it, but when he looked at her, her eyebrow was raised in questioning. "Travis Marks?" She sounded British.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, his grin widening, "Sorry I'm late."

She took in the way he was dressed; white dress shirt untucked from his black slacks and the first two buttons undone, allowing those to peek down his shirt with his tie askew. "I bet you are...Would you like to fix your uniform before we begin?"

"Not really," he said honestly with a shrug.

"Very well," she said, "take an empty seat. Like I was saying, I am Dr. Ryan, and I will be your AP Psychology teacher for the year. I am also the school's counselor. I teach for the first three hours of the day and after that, you can find me in my office over in the counseling center."

Travis knew where he wanted to sit, and was thankful there was an opening on the far wall. He took a quick look around the room before actually settling down, his back against the wall so he could watch the others more carefully. Most of the students were staring at him, at his appearance or his skin color, he wasn't at all sure. Either way he didn't care, and to prove it, he shoved his sleeves up, showing more of the dark skin and then stretched, making it look as casual as possible. He looked around the room, once again marking his exits, weaknesses and strengths, and once he felt more confident in his environment, he took note of the people in it. Most of the girls were pretty, but all of them followed the dress code to the letter. Their skirts stayed where they were meant to and each wore the red cardigan or womens blazer. One girl, a redhead up front, had laid her blazer over the back of her chair. All that was visible was her arms, which were pale and covered in freckles.

Next, Travis focused on the boys. While he didn't advertise it, Travis was not picky about gender. Love was love, and to him, sex was sex. Travis never really went looking to sleep with men, but that didn't stop him from checking them out. There were beautiful men in the world − and he happened to be one of them and didn't mind partaking every so often. There were some promising looking boys in the back, dark hair and darker eyes with bright smiles. There was a redhead in front of him with bright green eyes. He wasn't his type though so he instantly moved on.

The boy straight to his right caught his attention. He was dressed in the complete uniform, white shirt tucked into his black slacks with his tie so tight Travis was surprised he could breathe. The tie was pressed under his red cardigan, which was pushed up slightly as he took notes, revealing a very expensive gold watch and pale delicate skin. His blonde hair stuck up slightly, and his grey eyes looked forward, narrowed in slits as he concentrated on what Dr. Ryan was writing on the board.

His book and folder were placed neatly under his desk, just out of the way of his feet. His folder had a label on it, and Travis almost snorted at how anal the boy was. For some reason, though, he found himself looking closer to see what it said. Wesley Mitchell - AP Psychology - Dr. Ryan - Room 34A. Even stranger, he found himself moving forward to talk to him.

Wesley's eyes were piercing, and Travis almost shivered. "Hey, can I borrow a pencil?" It came out before he could think about it. He was glad for his automated remarks. He wasn't sure he could have come up with something under the others' gaze.

Wesley's eyes narrowed, "No."

"Why not?"

"You don't have any paper." The blonde turned back to writing, and Travis couldn't help but feel annoyed. He didn't like to be ignored.  
He poked Wesley again. The blonde turned to him slowly, his jaw locked, obviously angry. "What?"

"Can I borrow a pencil_ and_ paper?"

"You can't _borrow_ a piece of paper."

It took Travis a moment to realize what Wesley was talking about. "Okay, can I_ borrow_ a pencil and _have_ a piece of paper?"

"No."

Travis poked him again. "Please? I promise to return the pencil."

Wesley sighed, gently and neatly ripping a piece of paper from his spiral notebook and handed it over to Travis. He took a pencil box out of the small knapsack tucked neatly on the other side of him and handed a new and perfectly sharpened pencil over.

"Thanks," Travis grinned.

"Whatever."

"Travis."

"Yes," he said, snapping his head up and grinning. It was another automated response, and a good one at that. Most teachers never noticed the difference. Dr. Ryan was once again staring at him with her eyebrow raised, as if waiting for him to say something.

"Well, don't be shy," she said, "go on, tell us about yourself."

It was then Travis realized she was holding a hat and a little slip of paper in her hand. Everyone was staring at him. He sat up a little straighter and cleared his throat. He had nothing to hide. Well, no, that was a complete lie. He had tons to hide, and the best way to do that would be to reveal other things about himself to deflect. "Uh, okay," he clapped his hands together, "I'm Travis Marks, I'm eighteen years old, and this is my first year here. I used to go to L.A. High, but then I got offered a football scholarship."

"Very nice," Dr. Ryan said, like she was impressed and it made Travis grin. "Why don't you tell us about your family?"

They always probe. "All right. I have...had...have...had..." he played with his fingers, as if debating the word play, "had or have a hundred and ten siblings and eighteen mothers and fathers. I've lost track of my aunts, uncles, and cousins honestly." he gave a small chuckle as he finished, but his chest hurt.

"Be serious," Wesley said next to him, snorting as he rolled his eyes.

Travis turned to him, a little put off. "I am."

"Care to elaborate?"

No. But he did. "I grew up in foster care." There was the average awes and ohs he usually got, but they died down soon after. "I had eighteen different families with average of five to seven kids."

"Wow," Dr. Ryan said, her eyes growing wide for a second, "that's very interesting and quite different from the others' stories. Would you mind answering some questions?" She asked, and then when Travis shrugged, "Does anyone have any questions for Travis?"  
A girl in the front row raised her hand. "Are most kids in foster care African-American?"

"Uh, no...I mean, there are a lot of us, but there are other races too." He told her, feeling a bit awkward, "even white." He had a feeling that was what she really wanted to ask.

Another hand − one of the cuter boys from the back. Travis turned slightly to listen to him. "How is it different from growing up in a regular home?"

"I wouldn't know," he said, still grinning. His heart hurt, though. "I never lived in a 'regular' home. I can't compare."

"I have a question," Wesley said, raising his hand slightly. Travis nodded his head towards him, "What are your plans for the future?" At the look Travis gave him, Wesley elaborated. "I mean, you're in foster care."

"Was."

"Was?"

"I'm eighteen. I'm out now."

"And what do you plan to do after your cozy ride here is over?"

Travis didn't appreciate how Wesley was talking to him, but he smiled. The kid had guts, he had to admit. Not many people would stand up to him, especially after hearing some of his past. Everyone always assumed the worst about him when they heard the words 'foster care'. "College."

"For what?"

"Criminal Justice."

"Police Officer?"

"Detective, actually."

"Don't you have to be responsible to be a Detective?"

Travis' eyes narrowed. "What makes you think I'm not responsible?"

"You walked in twenty minutes late and you're completely unprepared," Wesley said, and then looked him up and down, at what he was wearing, as if to tell him without saying anything.

"Alright boys, that's enough." Dr. Ryan said, her hand itching to write down her observations. "Wesley," she said to him directly, "I pulled your name next. Why don't you tell us a little about yourself?"

"I'd rather not."

"Why not?" Dr. Ryan asked, a little disappointed.

"Because he knows his story is nowhere near as entertaining as mine."

Wesley glared at Travis, leaning forward slightly. He debated about talking, but made up his mind when Travis pulled a face at him. "My name is Wesley Mitchell;_ Wes._" he emphasized his nickname and Dr. Ryan nodded her head in understanding, "I've been going here my whole life. I moved to L.A. when I was four."

"You're from Texas?"

Wes turned to Travis sharply. "And how did you know that?"

Travis smirked, "Your accent."

"I don't have an accent."

"Really?" Travis questioned, "Then how did I figure it out?" Wes glared at him once more and then looked forward again, annoyed. His accent wasn't obvious. Travis was just good at noticing things like that. Some of his siblings had been moved in from different states. He'd even been sent to an Oregon family once. "So, what are your plans after your cozy ride is over?"

"University."

"For what?"

"Criminal Justice."

"Police Officer?"

"Lawyer, actually."

"Don't you have to be−"

"Travis," Dr. Ryan cut him off. "I see you two will be an interesting couple..." She thought about moving one of them, but decided against it in the end. She wanted to see where it went, if it went anywhere at all.

"Is that what your daddy does?"

"Actually, yes, it is," Wes said, turning in his chair to look completely at Travis. His pants wrinkled a little, and Travis found some weird form of satisfaction in that. "Why?"

"No reason," he said, waving it off, but he was still smirking. "Just...figures."

"What's that supposed mean?"

Travis was once again cut off by Dr. Ryan, who pulled the next name from her hat. The person hesitated, wanting to see if Travis and Wes would get into a fight before telling the class about themselves. Everyone slowly turned their attention away from the fuming couple and towards the new speaker. No one was very interested in what he has to say and even kept glancing at Wes and Travis to see if they would do something else. The two glared at each other for the rest of the hour, neither bothering to even pretend they were paying attention.

Dr. Ryan, admittedly, paid more attention to them too.

When the bell rang, Wes was snapped from his trance. Annoyed, he quickly and neatly gathered his things and left the room without looking at Travis again. The other was left standing there, pencil in hand. Shrugging slightly, he stuffed the pencil in his pocket and walked on, ignoring Dr. Ryan's eyes on him as he went.

The hallways weren't crowded like L.A. High's, but Travis could tell immediately how many students were in attendence of the school. The noise level was less than at his other school as well, but not completely gone. In fact, the students were rowdy, loud, and some were just plain rude. Travis was actually glad to see it. He was worried the students would walk in rows, like robots or zombies. But besides the too-clean-cut looks, they looked to be average teenagers. _Wes must be a robot. From Space._

Travis slowly made his way to class, and somehow got there before the bell rang without ever looking at his map. Math wasn't his favorite subject, which was why he picked Business Math for his senior year. The admissions woman he talked to wanted to put him in Trig, but he told her he didn't feel comfortable. He batted his eyes and pouted his lips and she believed him without a second thought. She wrote him down for Business Math and then let him pick out the rest of his schedule himself. He'd picked the classes that interested him, and few he figured would be considered challenging, just to keep everyone happy.

Second hour passed by without any problems. Mr. Holder took one look at how he was dressed and sighed, waving him off. Travis just grinned as he sat down. Just like always, the teacher probed into the students' lives and for a brief moment, everyone's sympathy was with him. But, like always, it passed over time and they moved on to the next person, this one a female student who got to go to Switzerland for her summer vacation. They spent the entire hour getting to know one another and looking over the syllabus for the semester. Mr. Holder wasn't nearly as handsome as Travis would have liked and had a boring sounding voice. Travis spent the entire time he wasn't talking focusing on the pencil in his hand and trying to think of Dr. Ryan's legs. He thought of Wes's lips instead.

When the bell rang, he walked past Mr. Holder and instantly started walking towards the gym, grinning like a fool. He had been there dozens of times already, but had never been there from inside the school. He knew the general area that it was in, and found his way there with two minutes to spare. Because their school had a religious affiliation, they separated the sexes for gym. Travis was a little disappointed, but rather excited to be able to show off his skills. He always liked gym, as did most teenage boys did, but gym was particularly special to him. Even if he got good grades, most teachers overlooked him, either because they were put off by his attitude or because they believed he wouldn't want the spotlight on him. In gym, he was able to show off by being natural, and for once, all the attention was on him without it ever being uncomfortable. Sports were something he was always good at, no matter what it was, and that made him feel good about himself.

The teacher instantly sent everyone into the locker rooms to change and Travis wasted no time. He had already put everything he needed in his locker before practice the day before and actually hurried.

"Travis!"

Travis turned, grinning slightly as Clyde walked into the changing rooms, his change of clothes under his arm. Clyde was one of only two members on the team he could stand and actually liked, and probably one of the only other black kids who went to the school. Travis knew of three; himself, Clyde, and Clyde's girlfriend Rozelle, who he'd seen at practice a couple of times. Behind him, Peter walked in just as he was pulling his curly hair back into a ponytail. The three joked and laughed while they got ready. Travis wasn't at all sure why, but before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "Do either of you know Wes Mitchell?"

Clyde and Peter shared a look before looking back at Travis. "Yeah," Peter said, shrugging. "He was class president for the last three years. Can't say I know him all that well, though."

"He's kind of an asshole," Clyde put in, "I had him in my second hour last year. He has what Rozelle calls the permanent cold shoulder."

"Yeah," Travis chuckled a little, "I got that."

"You met him?"

"First hour," Travis smiled sheepishly, "I made the mistake of asking for a pencil." The other two chuckled, both joking about Wes when someone caught Travis' eye. He stood up from his spot and slowly walked to the end of the aisle. "Uh, guys? I'll be right back." Travis called over his shoulder, but both were too busy laughing to really notice. Travis walked through the locker room, looking down each aisle as he went. The lockers were divided by sport, with more off to the side for those in gym class who didn't play sports. When he reached the tennis aisle, he paused. When he was sure of who it was, he walked down until he was just out of reach and sat down on the bench.

"What do you want?" Wes sounded annoyed, and maybe a little hurt. Travis wondered if he had heard the others making fun of him, but didn't push it. The last thing he needed was Wes to freak out at him.

"This is the tennis section."

"I play tennis."

"That's cool. Do you like it?"

"It's why I play."

"Are you any good?"

Wes sighed, "If I wasn't, I wouldn't be on the team, now would I?" He took off his cardigan and hung it carefully before unbuttoning his shirt. He was not going to be late because Travis couldn't take the hint. He hung up his shirt and toed off his shoes. He placed them in his locker before sitting down to take off his socks. He folded them and set them safely in his left shoe and went to work on taking off his belt.

"I guess tennis is all right," Travis said with a shrug, "I mean, if you can't handle a real sport."

Wes' fingers paused against the button of his slacks, his head turning slightly to look at Travis. "Excuse me?"

"Well, I mean, come on," Travis started, chuckling a little, "Tennis...you just run around and hit a ball back and forth."

"Tennis takes strength, confidence, and concentration." Wes frowned. "All football requires a certain number of pounds and a hard head." Wes could have gone on; he hated football. He could have, but Travis was just staring at him, his body leaning back against the bench, supported by his hands. Travis looked so relaxed, like this was his element. He looked like he was comfortable with only him and Wes there, and it made Wes more and more uncomfortable as the seconds ticked by. His eyes were so blue, Wes hadn't noticed them before. They were smothering, and Wes wanted to look away, but found himself staring intently at them. Wes felt a lump in his throat. He knew he was breathing. He could feel his chest rising and falling but felt as if he was suffocating. Then, suddenly, Travis looked down, the too blue eyes flickering as they ran over Wes' chest and even lower. And just like that, it was over. Travis slowly looked up again, and Wes almost found himself lost among the sea of color once again.

He turned his head sharply, feeling his face heating up. He moved to take off his slacks, but stopped himself once again. He could feel Travis' eyes watching him. It unnerved him, and yet, made him feel something Wes couldn't quite understand. "Can you leave now?" He asked finally, glaring at him. It didn't have nearly as much anger and resentment as he wanted.

Travis shrugged, standing up from his spot. He stretched lazily, the bottom of his t-shirt raising slightly to reveal part of his stomach. Wes' eyes traveled to the bare skin before snapping back up. He turned to his locker and pretended to shuffle things around. Travis chuckled a little and left without saying another word.

Peter and Clyde were just finishing getting ready when Travis returned to their lockers. He shrugged when they asked him where he went and together the three walked back out of the locker rooms together. They joined the rest of the class in the middle of the room, Wes behind them. The blonde made a note of staying far away from them, standing off to the side with a small group of people Travis could only guess were his friends. Wes stood out from them. He had his hands shoved in his pockets and didn't seem to be paying any attention to their conversation.

"Okay, listen up," their teacher, Mr. Caster, said, "today is gonna be an easy day. The school just wants to see how far along or behind you are in physical fitness. I'm going to split you up in two groups, are you listening? The first is going to go through the stations together, while the second one relaxes on the bleachers. Then we're gonna switch. I'm keeping track of everyone's score. The main goal is to do better at the end of the semester than at the beginning, understand?"

There were the usual murmurs and nods. "Okay, team one is Bass, Blake, Green, Johnson, Kissling, Marks, Mitchell, Paled, Rodney, and Zilling. Everyone else is on team two. Team two, sit this out, team one to the first station."

Clyde bid his friends goodbye before heading over to the bleachers. Peter and Travis walked to station one, along with Wes and one of the boys who had been standing next to him and the other six people. The first station was for pulls ups and the boys instantly started warming up without being told. "Okay, go five at a time. I'll be watching to make sure you're doing them correctly − keep track yourself. I can't do it for all of you. We'll go for one minute."

Travis made his way over to Wes. The blonde looked a little shocked, but annoyance quickly took over. "Watch and learn, baby."

"Excuse me?"

Travis smirked, "I'm about to show you what a certain weight and a hard head can do." He walked over and jumped up to the bar above his head and effortlessly, pulled himself up until his chin was over the bar. He held himself there, grinning at Wes, and the latter couldn't help but smile back a little.  
"You're on," he said, moving past his partner and, just as effortlessly, pulled himself up and held.

"Get down," Mr. Caster said, "we're starting and those ones don't count so if you can't do another, you're shit out of luck, got it?"

"Yes, sir," Wes said, while Travis only shrugged.

"Okay, grab the bar..."

The boys did.

"...and go."

Wes and Travis instantly moved, each pulling themselves up until their chins were over the bar and then dropped themselves to start over again. They both pulled three out before the others pulled themselves over once. Their breathing grew heavier, both feeling the full extent of the exercise. Their muscles burned but both ignored the pain and picked up their speed. It wasn't until Mr. Caster started to count down the final fifteen seconds did it become harder to ignore the pain, and both slowed down in their movements. When Caster blew the whistle, they both dropped themselves from their positions, almost losing their footing as they did. Peter clapped his hand over Travis' back, commenting on something Travis didn't care to listen to.  
"How many?" Caster questioned each boy.

Travis grinned when it was his turn, "Twenty-three."

It was Wes' turn next. His eyes narrowed at Travis' still grinning face, and sighed as he said, "Twenty-one."

Travis was rather impressed with the honesty, as not many people would have been. The next five started, and Wes pointedly looked away from Travis, who was not-so-secretly paying more attention to him than Peter. When the other five were done, Mr. Caster called them to the next station for sit ups and the boys instantly paired off without being told.

"All right," Mr. Caster said. "I assume everyone has a partner? You guys know the drill. One down, one holds the feet. We'll go for sixty seconds and then switch. Don't try to keep count of your sit ups, let your partner do that. Pick who's going first...Well, chop, chop."

"You wanna go first," Peter asked, and Travis waited until Wes laid down on the mat to nod his head. He laid down right beside him and looked over, still grinning like a fool.

"You didn't watch me," he pointed out, pretending to pout.

"Shut up."

"That hurts."

"It was meant to."

"Okay," Mr. Caster called their attentions, "ready, set, and go."

Wes and Travis were instantly up once again, both jumping in front of the pack. Both got through the first thirty with ease. It's after that the muscles started to ache and wear the person down. Wes was able to push through it, his body a little smaller with less muscle. His movements become a little more erratic, but he kept it together and focused on nothing more than making a complete sit up. Travis, on the other hand, was more weighed down by his muscle and wasn't able to keep up. When Caster blew the whistle, Travis in mid sit up, and Wes upright.

Travis thought about having Peter lie about how many, but Wes had been honest and he decided to do the same. "Green, how many did Marks do?"  
"Sixty-six."

"Zilling, what about Mitchell?"

"Seventy."

Travis could feel Wes' ego. They focused completely on their partners this time, each counting. When they were done, they moved on to the next station: flexibility. Unlike the other stations, only one person could go at a time. Caster started off with Bass intending to end with Zilling. Travis wasn't the most flexible person in the world, but he wasn't completely incapable. When it was his turn, he sat down and put his feet into the metal box and moved forward until it felt as though his knees would pop off. He made it further than the previous boys, and Travis felt proud himself. Wes didn't look worried, but he didn't look as cocky as Travis felt. Wes sat down on the floor and set his feet in the metal box after a small moment. He took a deep breath and moved forward, pushing the small metal measure as far back as it could go and then continued on by himself. Travis felt his mouth go completely dry, the blood rushing south. Coughing a little, he turned to the side and tucked his partial away, hoping that no one − mainly Wes − saw it. When the next few seconds went by without problem, he let out a sigh of relief. He couldn't keep his eyes off Wes, his mind racing with all the possible things he could do to him. It wasn't helping. When Zilling finished, Travis turned to the next station as fast as he could.

Wes had won two, meaning Travis was losing. He'd fix that. There were two more stations and Travis was determined to win. Their current was the push up exercise, and Travis had never been so happy to be facing away from everyone. He was grateful when Wes decided to go first and got down into position far enough away from the blond where he wouldn't be distracted. Caster started the sixty seconds, and Travis pushed everything he had. He lost track of the time, and the number of push ups he did, but when he came up, he could feel the pain in his arms.

"Dude, fifty eight," Peter gushed, most of the other guys only getting to the forty mark. Travis didn't care about them, though. If he didn't beat Wes, it would be over.

"Fifty," Zilling said, and Wes shrugged like it didn't matter. But then he looked at Travis and then at the final station and Travis knew it was on. They were tied, two and two.

At the final station, there was a spot for two people. The objective was to run to the halfway mark, grab the cone and run back, pick up the second cone and run it all the way to the end and come all the way back. Wes instantly took a spot, and Travis grinned at how eager he was, but then Zilling made it to the second spot before him. He, like everyone else, was oblivious to the small war going on before them. There was a flash of something in Wes's eyes and Travis stepped up to say something.

"Let me go, man."

"Why?" Zilling looked at Wes, for support or answers, neither was sure. Wes only shrugged. The reaction must have been enough, because Zilling stepped back and allowed Travis to take his spot.

"Both boys ready?"

They nodded.

"Ready, set, go!"

Travis took off, Wes right behind him. Travis reached the cone first but Wes made a sharp turn and shot past Travis before he could blink. Travis quickened his pace and together they reached the second cone. Wes, once again, shot off, leaving Travis to catch up. By now, Travis realized he was losing time in his turns, so instead of turning to run back once they reached the other side of the gym, he started running backwards. Halfway, he slide into the right direction, pretending he was avoiding getting hit when going for a touchdown. They both stopped once they reached the finish line, both a little out of breath. Mr. Caster wrote down their times and moved onto the next two boys without pause, and then the final of the group.  
"Okay, you guys can go sit now. Team two!"

"You might have won," Travis told Wes smirking, "if you weren't so busy watching me."

Wes glared at him. "I won. If anyone was too busy watching anyone, you were too busy watching me."

"What is with them?" Peter asked Clyde as they walked past one another. Clyde only shrugged before catching up with the others. Wes and Travis continued to argue until team two was done and Mr. Caster was telling them about the rest of the class.

"What was my time for the race?" Travis asked, and then raised his hand as an afterthought.

"And mine?" Wes remembered to raise his, but didn't wait to be called on. They glared at each other and then looked to the teacher.

"Who won? Me or him?"

Mr. Caster looked confused, but checked the charts anyway. "It's a tie," he said, "well, it would have been if this was a race...Oh, look at the time. Hit the showers boys, see you tomorrow."

"No way," Travis said as he and Wes walked to the locker room. "I beat you. I totally beat you."

"In your dreams," Wes said, annoyed.

"Oh, what? You think you won?"

"Of course I did."

"Well how about a rematch? A real race?"

Wes wasn't sure why he was letting Travis get to him, and he knew that it should stop. At the same time, he didn't want it to. "You're on."

It wasn't a requirement to take a shower at Oakland after gym, but it was recommended. Travis didn't care either way. He didn't have anything to hide, so he never worried about showering publicly. Wes, though he had nothing to feel ashamed of, was never a big fan. It was a little awkward to hear people moving around and laughing while doing something private. Still, he hated being dirty, and the half walls covered anything important and so he powered through it.

Travis picked the stall right next to his and Wes instantly regretted his decision. He was still fuming from the day and didn't want to be anywhere near Travis at the moment, but kept finding himself looking over a little. His eyes would remain there for a few seconds and then he'd remember what he was doing and where he was and snap back to reality. He shook his head and continued on with his shower, ignoring the feeling of eyes on him.

Travis wasn't sure where all of this was going. He liked fucking with Wes, that much he'd learned during the day. He took a peek over the wall. Wes was turned at a certain angle, blocking anything good from Travis' view. He quickly looked away and checked to make sure no one was watching him. While he wasn't ashamed of himself, he still didn't need the others to know about his feelings. It would make school difficult − even more so than it already was − and football practice would be hell. He'd only actually been with one guy before, a foster cousin from a different state he would never see again.

Most of the boys just rinsed themselves off before getting out, a few actually washing their hair or body. Wes washed his entire body and hair as quickly as he could and got out, wrapping his towel tightly around his waist and walking back to his locker. Travis wrapped his own towel around his waist and followed Wes out. There was still five minutes left before class ended and lunch was fast approaching, but none of the boys were hurrying to get ready.

_Snap!_

"Dude, that's not funny!" Bass grabbed onto his ass, glaring at Johnson who had used the towel to whip him. He laughed when Johnson hit him a second time, taking off his own towel trying to whip the other boy in return.

Travis watched for a moment, grinning as Bass and Johnson tried to snap at one another, but quickly found himself turning away to look at Wes once again. The smaller man was watching, a disgusted look on his face. He turned, rolling his eyes slightly and started to head back to his locker. Travis got an evil idea and quickly took off his towel, leaving him nude, and wrapped it around his hand. He snapped it forward, his eyes instantly heading south when Wes' towel slid down a little.

Wes froze dead in his tracks, as did the other boys. Everyone's eyes went from Wes to Travis and then back again. Wes refused to turn around, his fists clenched at his sides. Travis wanted to see Wes's towel on the floor, wanted to see how the blonde would act to being completely naked and vulnerable. He snapped the towel again, but the white fabric never made contact with the target. Wes turned just as Travis flicked his wrist, grabbing the towel and pulling. Travis lost his footing on the slippery tile and crashed into Wes. Wes's back connected with the locker just behind him, Travis' body completely flush against him.

Wes wanted to push him away, but found himself once again lost in his eyes, and in the feeling of his body pressed against Travis'. It was an odd sensation and Wes was so caught up in feeling like he should be disgusted that his mind overloaded. When he finally snapped back, his cheeks flushed hot, the blush running from his face down to his chest and up to the tips of his ears. Travis smirked and looked down with his eyes − or was he just imagining him doing so? − before backing up and turning around. The others laughed and cheered, like Travis had faced a dragon and won. Travis joked around and laughed with the others, though his heart was pounding heavily in his chest.

Wes merely rolled his eyes and quickly went to his locker. He could feel Travis' eyes on him. He didn't know how he knew they were Travis'; he just did.


	2. Chapter 2

(A/N) So...I had notes planned out of this chapter...and now I don't remember them. Totally winging it!

I'm sorry for the wait, I was crazy busy with work and church events that I haven't been sleeping much let alone posting. Luckily, they screwed up in scheduling so I have time to post!

I would love to take a moment and thank my lovely editor Maryjane for editing this for me. She is amazing and makes my stories pretty and readable. I'd be lost without her.

Oh, also, Ms Percy is based off my manager. You have been warned.

**Important Note: This story may be taken down eventually, if the site really intends to go through all the M stories and take out the ones that are MA. If this happens, or if you wish to go there now, you can find this story on A03 under the same title and penname KittyHowell(no space).**

* * *

**Chapter Two: Fickle Bitch**

Wes finished his tie, pushing the knot up and settling it into place. It was a little crooked, and Wes stared at it for a moment before giving in and redoing the the whole thing. The bell rang, the other boys hurrying to finish and leaving quickly. Wes took his time, not caring when his friends decided to leave him without saying goodbye. He was used to it. The knot was perfect the second time, and he felt a small hint of satisfaction before it faded into something akin to regret. Frowning, he grabbed his cardigan and pulled it on. He looked himself in the mirror one more time before grabbing his backpack and heading to lunch.

Walking through the hallways were Wes' least favorite part of the day. He didn't really have a favorite, but the hallways were the worst. The kids were rowdy, even his friends, and on a bad day, Wes would feel like he was unable to breathe. On a good day they were more than just a little uncomfortable. He sped through them, trying to look okay and not scratch at his tie. He told himself it wasn't the end of the world, that the walls only looked like they were moving in on him at times, and that everything was okay. He believed it most of the time but sometimes his thoughts got the better of him. Wes would give just about anything to get out of walking through the halls with the other students − except going late.  
Wes hated being late, even more so than he hated the hallways.

He was the kind of person who apologized for only showing up fifteen minutes early to most events. Wes had never been late for class before, and lunch was always the same. Wes could never be late for anything. Even if it didn't mean anything, it meant a great deal to him. Wes always thought ahead, and would place his lunch and next hour things in his gym locker to avoid any unforeseen problems. He felt a familiar relief when he entered the lunchroom doors before the bell rang and quickly made his way over to his table. He sat down at the end of the table and slowly took out his lunch, silently counting down the seconds.

The lunch room was always just as rowdy as the halls, but the teachers kept a closer eye on the room than outside so no one ever got too out of hand. It was also very large with enough room for everyone to move around freely without being touched. There were three lines, two for snack foods and one for actual hot lunches and more tables than were really needed. The snack lines always had more people in them than the hot lunch, and because of that, the school demanded the students eat as many fruits and vegetables as they possibly could. It was rather annoying − especially since Wes was the one person who always ate as healthy as possible most days − but he was rather impressed that the school wanted better for the students.

Wes' life revolved around routine, as did most people's. No one usually notices it, but everyone has a routine from the moment they get up to the time they go to bed. While others rarely notice it, Wes had and happily accepted it. He loved the routine, sometimes felt like he needed it. It gave him a constant and he needed things to stay the same in order to feel like he had some control. Because it was the first day back, Wes wasn't sure how the routine would go.

His girlfriend, Alex, was the next to sit down, as per usual. She had her own packed lunch and was instantly talking the moment she sat down. Wes only half listened as he continued to count down the seconds. Almost on cue, each seat was taken around him, everyone sitting in the exact same spot they had every day since ninth grade. They were a little off, but Wes could live with that. He'd have to. When the last of their small group sat down, Wes let out a silent breath of relief and focused completely on Alex.

She was still talking, and it took a few sentences to realize what about. Wes frowned a little, but continued to listen without pause. The others at the table listened as well, each making appropriate comments from time to time and a few inappropriate whenever the opportunity presented itself. Alex would either laugh or roll her eyes, a small smile on her face before continuing on.

Wes took a moment to look at each of their friends, and then at Alex. They responded well to her, happily and excitedly. Wes wondered − more often than not − if they were really her friends more than they were his. He had a clique he belonged to, but he wasn't sure if any of them really liked him. His friends were the more pristine of the students there. They all had parents who were doctors or lawyers, a few nurses and even a judge. They had more money and nicer things and were all planning for the future in a similar fashion. Still, Wes couldn't help but feel like the odd one out most of the time. His friends were as rowdy and wild as the other students, some of them the worst Wes had ever seen. He never did anything crazy. Wes wasn't really sure what that meant. The others, particularly the teachers, seemed to consider him the leader of the group. It was probably because he was the most mature. Even Alex was known for having a little fun every once in a while. He didn't approve, but it was her life and he couldn't do anything about it. Wes always felt like he was the one outside looking in, sitting beside their leader and only there because she wanted him there. Alex, for one reason or another, liked him enough to say yes when he awkwardly asked her out and the two had remained together for longer than anyone expected.

At this, Wes thought of Travis, though he was unsure as to why. The other man bothered him, and just thinking his name made his blood boil a little. He thought back to the day, replaying their moments in his mind. He may have been more than a little rude to him, Wes knew, but decided not to make a big deal out of it. Wes didn't like to be touched, and still cringed a little whenever Alex touched him, even after being together for a little over a year now. Wes had a feeling the day would have turned out the same, no matter how Wes had acted towards him in first hour. Travis just seemed like that type of person.

Wes swallowed, an image of Travis' eyes flashing through his mind. He had never seen someone with such bright blue eyes, especially not someone of his race. It was a rather welcome lesson, though unnerving. He wasn't sure what it was about Travis' eyes that made him freeze up like he did, but he told himself it was because he was startled by the intensity of the color. He was lying, he knew, but Wes had always been good at keeping his true emotions from everyone, including himself. Wes looked at Alex's eyes, a shimmer of disappointment running through him. They were pretty, a cloudy grey that shined green in the light. Pretty, but not nearly as beautiful as Travis' eyes. Wes felt a little guilty for thinking it, and tried to push the idea from his mind completely.

He tried to focus on what Alex was saying, but she pulled at the top of her shirt absently, adjusting it. Her shirt was buttoned completely to the top, her red cardigan over it. Her tie was placed neatly in the middle, a little off center but only enough for Wes to really notice. Her black skirt reached just above her knees, Wes observed, when she smoothed out the wrinkles. Her hair was placed up in a bun, revealing the skin on her neck. She was pale, almost as pale as he was. She looked like the average girl at Oakland, from the top of her head to the bottom of her shiny black flats. Wes thought of Travis again, the way he fit in his uniform and how disheveled he looked. How much the look suited him. His mouth went as dry as it had in first hour, and he quickly took a drink of his water.

"Wes, are you listening to me?"

It was the first time Alex paused since she sat down, looking at him with a certain glint in her eyes. Honesty was not the best policy when she looked at him like that, and he knew he had to come up with something good to get out of trouble. "Of course," he said, hoping she couldn't tell that he was lying, "I was just thinking about the campaign, is all." There was a moment of silence, and then she smiled at him and continued talking, even more excited than before. It was cute, really. Wes loved that she got so excited over certain things. He just wished he could have been as excited as her.

Wes hated campaign time. It was the worst month of his year every year it happened. There wasn't really any point in doing it, anyway. The Class President had no real power, and could do nothing of any real importance. The past three years that he was President, he raised money for the grade trip and dances, organized special events, and had a special picture in the yearbook. He hated being the President, but it would look good for University and it made his father happy, and he guessed that was what really mattered. This year would be the same as any year. He'd pull through it, probably win again, and then do all the big picturs things while letting all the volunteers − and Alex − do the real 'spirit friendly' leg work.

"So, sound like a plan?"

"Yeah," he said, though he couldn't bring up any of her ideas, even if his life depended on it. "Good plan."  
The others nodded their heads in agreement, a few last minute comments before they settled into their own little conversations. Wes found himself alone, completely miserable as he watched the other three guys of the group chat about something he knew nothing about. It took a moment for him to realize that Alex was staring at him and when he did, she couldn't seem to stop herself from giggling. "You're in your own little world today, aren't you?" She paused, "It's okay. I'll tell you all about my plans later." Another pause, "So, how's your day been?"

"My day has been..." Wes paused, his mind derailing from his usual response of 'okay'. His days are rarely anything but. He has his moments of misery and his moments of satisfaction. There wasn't anything more to it than that. But, for some reason, he found himself hesitating as he actually thought back to the day. His day had been...good. Lively, perhaps even...fun. First hour had been interesting, despite the slight annoyance. His second had passed quickly and without problem, and Wes had never enjoyed a workout as much as he had third hour. The only thing different was Travis, but he told himself he had nothing to do with it. "...okay," he said, seeing the look that Alex was giving him. She'd noticed the change in response, he was sure, and he didn't have any good reason for it. "How has yours been?" he smiled a little, somewhat politely, but mostly just to change the subject.

Alex had long since accepted how he was, and merely smiled at him while she talked about her day. "Well, trig was okay. The teacher's pretty good, kinda boring, though, and I have Dr. Ryan third hour. She seems to know what she's doing. Maybe you should go and talk to her...I can come with." Alex paused, sighing at the look Wes gave her. "Okay, so that wasn't very subtle, was it?"

"No."

"I think you'll like law." She said, changing the subject. Wes let her, not wanting to dwell on the topic very long. "I can't wait to get out of here, though. I stopped for gas this morning and this guy commented on my 'sexy schoolgirl' outfit." She looked down at herself and frowned, "I cannot wait to graduate and go to University. It's going to be great, the two of us together."

He nodded, smiling a little. Something hurt in his chest, though, Travis' words from first hour suddenly echoing in his head. Alex got sucked into a conversation with Ashley next to her, once again leaving Wes alone. Jared, Trent, and Ryan were still talking about a concert by a band he'd never heard of. The only other person at the table was Dakota, and he barely ever spoke to her. She was too busy staring at something behind him to talk to anyone anyway, her bottom lip between her teeth. Curious, or perhaps just bored, Wes followed her eyes to see what she was looking at.

Peter, he realized, instantly seeing a curly head two tables down and one to the left. It was where the football players sat everyday. They were the only sports team that actually sat together. He wasn't even sure where the other tennis players were, or even if they were in his lunch at all. Vaguely, Wes wondered why Dakota wasn't sitting with the team. She, Rozelle, and the other players' girlfriends usually sat with them, and by the look Dakota was giving him, he was sure she wanted to.

Wes watched Dakota nervously chew on her lip for another moment before once again looking over at the table. Travis was sitting two seats away from Peter, turned slightly at an angle. He seemed to be talking, a grin on his face. He made the others laugh, and Wes wondered what he was saying to them. Wes wasn't sure he had ever made a group of people laugh before − unless of course they were laughing at him. Travis looked content, smiling as the others laughed and not at all like they were making fun of him. Suddenly, Wes saw Travis' eyebrows narrow together. He looked over, instantly locking eyes with Wes. Wes felt himself blush again, unable to look away. He didn't know what to do, so he did the first thing he could think of. He waved.

He felt stupid afterward − especially after the morning he had − but then Travis smiled and waved back a little. Travis chuckled, but Wes oddly didn't feel like he was being made fun of. The bell rang, and Wes realized he hadn't touched any of his food. He cleaned up the unopened bags and quickly threw it away in the garbage can, once again only half listening to what Alex was saying. Travis started walking in his direction when Alex stepped in front of him, a small smile on her face.

"What?" he asked, a little confused. Alex leaned forward and Wes' eyes grew wide before he turned his head, Alex's lips connecting with his cheek. He wasn't comfortable showing affection in front of other people. Alex knew that, and respected it most of the time, but sometimes she tried to push the boundaries of their unspoken agreement. Wes locked eyes with Travis again, who stopped where he was before awkwardly turning away and walking out of the lunch room.**  
**

"Sorry," Alex apologized, and Wes just stared at her for a moment. He understood how she felt, but still got regularly upset with her for trying. He didn't mind a kiss on the cheek in public, and sometimes even just a kiss was okay. He hated when she tried to trick him, which was more often than not.

"Do you want to hang out later? Do something?" Alex asked as the two walked out of the lunch room together and towards her locker.

"I can't, sorry," he told her. "My dad wants to do some stuff around the house together before it gets too cold. But I'll pick you up from this class and walk you to the next." He double checked to make sure he had everything he needed for law, and checked again while Alex was getting her stuff ready. He ignored the look she gave him, already knowing what she wanted to say. He walked her to class before heading to his own, which was only down the hall.

Travis was already there, sitting in the back corner, turned slightly so he could look at everyone. Wes instantly sat up front and placed his stuff neatly under his desk. The students slowly started to pile in and take seats, starting from the back and slowly making their way forward. The bell rang, the teacher walking in and closing the door as she did. She smiled at the class as she did, taking a piece of paper from her folder. "All right. I'm not very good with names, so until I learn them, I'll be putting you in alphabetical order. Everyone stand, and I'll tell you where to sit." She pointed to the desk as she said the person's name, the student moving to allow the other person to sit there. She was towards the end of the room when she called Travis' name, pointing to a desk in the front row, Wes right behind him.

Wes looked at Travis before sitting down, and then waited for everyone else to find their seats. Many of the students weren't paying attention, and had to figure it out as the other students sat down. Wes looked at Travis again. He stared at the spot for a moment before walking over and sitting down, his body a little stiff. Wes wondered what was wrong. Part of him wanted to ask, but another knew it wasn't his place. Instead, he focused on the teacher, who was passing out the syllabus. "I'm not entirely sure when but in a couple of days, I'm going to pair you guys up in twos. Pretty much anything you do in law will have you with a partner or group, so we'll be working together a lot as well. You'll work alone, but not as much as you would in any other class. This is what we'll be learning for the year. I trust everyone already has some idea of what to expect but if you guys have any questions, feel free to ask. My contact information is on the last page. Use it as you see fit."

"Does that mean I can call you for a date?" Travis piped up, his body relaxing a little as he spoke. He was still a little stiff. Wes remembered his body language when he checked out Dr. Ryan. He looked almost as if he was faking it here. "I see that as fit..." he looked down at her ID card at her waist, "...Bailey."

Her eyes narrowed, "That's Ms Baxter to you," she checked the seating chart, "Travis, is it?"

"It is," he nodded his head and grinned.

"How did you manage to get this far dressed like that?"

Travis shrugged, "Just lucky, I guess."

"Hm," she said, nodding her head a little, "well, not here, you aren't. Button up those buttons. You're not getting lucky in here, and if that's all you want, then you can leave right now."

Travis smiled at the ground, looking amused as he fixed his shirt. "No, thank you, ma'am."

"Now that that's settled," Ms. Baxter said, "let's get started." She looked rather amused with Travis. Wes guessed it wasn't the first time a student had hit on her. His stomach felt funny, like he'd eaten bad sushi again, except he hadn't had sushi in over a month. He passed it off as hunger pains and listened as Ms Baxter explained the first bullet point on the page. Travis was fidgeting slightly in front of him, looking over his shoulder every so often. The movements were subtle, so subtle that Wes was surprised that he had caught them himself. Travis and Wes locked eyes once again, and Wes wondered how many times it would happen before the fates would get bored. Travis was the one to pull away, and when he did, he looked more relaxed, and actually leaned back a little.

"Okay, class," Ms. Baxter pulled Wes' attention back. "I'm going to split you up into pairs. Your partner may or may not be your partner for the rest of the year. I'm trying to feel for your personalities right now and also need you to fill out this worksheet on how much you know about law. Ms Baxter didn't look at them as she named off two people at a time, each head looking up and around until they found their partner.

"Hm, let's see...Kassidy and Hendley, Jackson and Lambert, Marks and Mitchell..."**  
**

_Fickle bitch._ Wes thought and Travis instantly turned around to look at him, a grin on his face. His teeth were straight and perfectly white. Wes did his best to focus on them and not his eyes, knowing what would happen if he once again got sucked into them. Ms. Baxter passed out the worksheet, and the students started moving around the room, looking for a place to sit with their partners. Travis just turned his desk completely around and pulled Wes' pencil out of his pocket, tapping it against the paper. Wes couldn't place his finger on it, but there was something different about Travis. "Okay, um, first question...What is law?"

"A set of rules that guides how we behave in society."

Wes nodded his head, and the two wrote down the answer quickly. "Next question: What is a constitution...?" he said, and then cleared his throat, "It's a basic charter for the government." The two wrote down the answer. "Question three..." The two continued on, answering each question one after another. When Wes realized Travis could handle it and wasn't about to get them in trouble, he stopped asking questions and started answering them on his own. Travis pouted when he realized what was happening, and when that didn't work, reached forward and snatched the worksheet from under Wes' arm and held it just out of the blond's reach. Travis checked which number he was on, and quickly caught up. Rolling his eyes, Wes reached forward and grabbed the paper back. "Question eighteen..."**  
**

The two finished before everyone else, the others all talking or going through their books for references. Travis flipped the paper over, his eyebrow raising. "Silly question of the day: What colors are on the American flag?" He looked at the flag for a moment, and then closed and reopened each eye one at a time.

"What are you doing?" Wes leaned forward to see what Travis was writing. "Midnight blue, ghost white, and blood red."

"Silly questions need silly answers."

Wes looked at the flag and then back at Travis and his answer, "It's more scarlet."

"That is a bright ass color. Does the flag look bright to you?"

"Yes," he said back, "and it certainly isn't the non-ghost white doing it."

"Okay, genius, what colors do you think the flag is? Besides scarlet."

Wes stopped for a moment, looking back up at the flag. Did he really think it looked scarlet, or was he just trying to piss Travis off? He wasn't sure, and the answer didn't matter, but that didn't stop him from answering anyway. "Scarlet, ivory, and sapphire."

"Scarlet...ivory...and sapphire..." Travis said back, slowly, "man, you sound like a girl. We're not planning out our wedding here, we're determining the colors of our manly country flag."

Wes felt his face heat up a little, so he pretended to be angry. "You're honestly gonna sit there and tell me it's more ghost, blood, and midnight?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, and I suppose if a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it it still makes a sound."

"...of course it makes a sound. How the hell could it not make a sound?"

"How doesn't it make a sound? I'll tell you how it doesn't make a sound." Wes said, not caring when the other groups around them started to listen. "A sound is a vibration, not a noise. It only becomes a noise when picked up by an eardrum. Otherwise it would just continue to move forward until it faded or bounced off something."

Travis just stared at him.

"What? It's simple eighth grade science."

"What if there's a chipmunk?"

"A what?"

"Chipmunk. Or a squirrel? A damn bird, I don't know."

"The question specifies 'no one'. Never says anything about an animal."

"Well maybe it should."

"Well it doesn't."

There was groan from somewhere to the left of Wes. "Oh, my God! Can we just burn the tree and be done with it?"

At this, the boys settled down, looking into each other's eyes for a long moment before turning their finished worksheets in. They sat in silence, each to their own devices as the seconds slowly ticked by. There was still ten minutes left of class. Travis didn't bother to turn his desk back around, and Wes didn't bother to tell him to. Travis doddled in his notebook, and Wes watched him for several seconds before rolling his eyes, annoyed with himself for even caring.

"How's your day been?" Travis asked, taking a moment to look at Wes. He was bored, and Wes seemed decent enough to talk to.

The smaller man stared at him for a moment before clearing his throat, "It's been...good," he said, and felt good for saying it. "How has yours been?"

Travis thought back to the day. The only thing worth remembering about his day was fighting with Wes. It shouldn't have been fun. He always wanted people to like him. Travis actually hated fighting with people, especially over stupid things like pencils and flags. Still, the verbal sparring had been rather fun and he hoped to do it more. "Best first day ever, and believe me, I've had a lot of first days."

"Uh, yeah, about that," Wes said, remembering his reaction in first hour, "I'm sorry."

Travis shrugged. "You didn't know. You do now."

Wes nodded, and the two made small talk for the rest of class. Wes was surprised at how easy it was to talk to Travis. They had very few things in common but some they did and when Wes talked, Travis looked at him and payed attention. Wes wasn't used to someone giving him so much attention before. When the bell was about to ring, he turned his desk over, and feeling Wes' eyes on his back, was actually able to relax. Travis hated having his back turned to people and prefered to always have them in his sights. He always did, but the problem grew worse after he'd been arrested. It was never a good thing to turn your back on people. He didn't know who he could trust. Strangely, Travis felt better knowing Wes was behind him. He just didn't understand why.

"Who was that girl earlier?" Travis asked just as the bell was ringing. Wes picked up his things and Travis hurried to catch up. They both turned left, Wes because he knew his class was down there and Travis because he really wanted to know the answer. "The girl who tried to kiss you."

"Alex," Wes told him, "she's my girlfriend. Why?"

"Nothing," Travis said. Damn, he thought. "You just...you didn't seem to want to kiss her."

Wes didn't like what Travis was implying. "That's none of your business."

"I never said it was." He looked behind Wes, and then stopped. "This is my class. See you around, I guess."

As Wes walked away, he realized it sounded more like an unhappy statement than a question. He noticed how much that annoyed him, but couldn't figure out why. It wasn't until he got to his class that he realized he'd forgotten completely about walking Alex to her next class.

Fifth hour was trigonometry. He forced his thoughts about Travis out of his mind and focused on the teacher. When asked to speak about himself, Wes refused and the teacher instantly moved on without a second thought. He felt a hint of satisfaction that once again faded into something similar to regret. Wes touched his tie but quickly pulled away in fear of pushing it out of its spot. He wrote down the appropriate notes and when the teacher was done speaking, the class erupted in whispers. It looked like everyone was talking to someone, and even those who weren't at least looked content. Wes read the syllabus over and over, memorizing each bullet point before moving on to the next. When the bell rang, Wes was ready to leave and felt happy just to be out of the room.

He stopped at his locker, grabbing the last book and placing the other two where they belonged. His first two hours things were placed on the first shelf. He placed his fourth hour stuff there, a reminder to grab it before heading to gym. The last two remaining hours were placed on the second shelf, the rest of the locker empty. Others around him had pictures and magnets, stickers and mirrors in their lockers. They were like second bedrooms to most students. Wes looked at his locker and thought about his room at home. Just as bare. Just as empty. Sighing, he closed the door and faced the crowds of students to his next class.

He managed to get to Physics before most of his classmates, his eyes instantly going to his watch. He still had two minutes before the bell rang. Looking around the room, he saw Alex in the front row, smiling at him. He smiled back a little, happy to see her. He sat down next to her, placing his stuff neatly on the floor and once again looking around the room. Like always, Wes made note of doors, windows, and anything else that may come in handy if there was ever an emergency. That was when Travis walked in.

Wes felt his heart instantly race, his eyes going from Travis to Alex before settling on the board in front of him. He wasn't sure why, but he didn't want Alex and Travis around each other. He glanced at Alex, but she didn't seem to notice anything wrong. He felt guilty, like he had done something he should be sorry for. He looked at Travis, who looked at him before walking passed him and all the way to the end of the row, away from everyone else. Wes noticed Travis' habit and wondered if it was a coincidence or something more.

The teacher, Ms Percy, sat at her desk until the bell rang. When it did, she finished what she was doing and stood up. Her hair was curly, and shined with too much product. She wore too much make-up and Wes wondered if she was a part time clown. She looked at the door and then back at the students, frowning. "Who was the last person to walk in?"There was a moment of silence, everyone confused. Finally, a girl in the second row raised her hand, hesitantly. "Okay...and you didn't close the door behind you, because why?"

"Um, I..."

The teacher waved her off, walking over to the door and closing it. "Some people are just so rude..."

"No kidding," Travis mumbled from his seat.

"Excuse me?" Ms Percy looked as if Travis had slapped her across the face. "Do you speak to your mother like that?"

"I don't have a mother," Travis said back, a hint of sadness under his tone.

"Well do you speak to your father like that?"

"I don't have a father."

"You're an orphan? Well," Ms Percy said, "lucky them."

Wes felt his eyes grow to dinner plates, and he had to stop himself from turning around to see Travis' reaction. Wes thought he'd flip. How could anyone not? But there was silence, and when Wes finally did look back, Travis was leaning back in his chair. He looked like he was holding his tongue.

"Nothing else to say?"

"No, ma'am," Travis said, though it sounded like he had a million and one things he'd love to say to her.

"Good. I hate L.A. Everyone here is so rude." She said, "And you," hitting her hand down on Wes' desk. "Stop staring at your boyfriend and pay attention."

"Sorry," Wes said, his face heating up a little.

"That's fine, sweetie. Don't get upset. I love everyone in this room, so there's no need to be sorry."

Wes looked at Alex, who looked to be trying insanely hard not to laugh. Wes wished he'd felt the same way. "Okay..."

"Now," she said addressing the class, "I'm Ms Percy and you're the students. That's all we need to know about each other. My rules are my rules and you will follow them. Let's get to work. Open your books to page seven, and we'll begin."

The hour passed by slowly, Ms Percy never turning around or answering any questions from the confused students. Wes could barely keep up in her rambles at first, but quickly got into the swing of things. When Ms Percy took a phone call, Wes looked around the room to see how everyone else was doing. Alex looked tired but otherwise okay. Some of the other students had given up, some were asleep. Wes hesitated before turning around, looking at Travis. He looked tired and bored, but looked to be taking notes. Wes was surprised, Travis didn't look like the type to him.

The final bell rang, and everyone hurried to leave. Wes quickly went to his locker and got his things before heading to his car. He hated the bus, and lived far enough away where walking was out of the question. He hated leaving his car in the parking lot, especially when he knew how well the other students drove. He also knew how many students cut class and sometimes wreaked havoc in the parking lot. The pros outweighed the cons, and so Wes did his best to push it from his mind when he was in school.

He did a quick check, making sure the paint wasn't scratched and no one had done any damage to it. He loved his car, more so than was probably natural. It wasn't until he was finishing did he realize there was a motorcycle parked across from him. His eyebrow raised, unsure of who in their school could possibly own a bike. There were a few misfits, but none who had any money for a bike that nice. Wes prefered cars, but he knew a little about bikes as well. It wasn't the newest model, but it was an expensive one and in very nice condition.

"Travis..." he said to himself.

"You say my name, baby?"

Wes jumped, turning around to look at Travis. His mouth instantly went dry again and he felt the urge to rip at his tie. Travis shirt was undone at the top again, his tie wrapped around his shoulders. He was wearing a dark brown leather jacket that fit him perfectly, allowing Wes to see the muscles in his arms and back. He cleared his throat, "Nice bike."

"Thanks," Travis said, aware that Wes was ignoring his question, "nice car."

"Thanks," he said in return.

The two stood there awkwardly for a moment before Travis yawned and said, "I gotta get home."

"Oh, uh, yeah," Wes said, a little flustered all of a sudden, "me too."

"See you tomorrow," Travis mounted his bike, smirking when the engine came alive underneath him. He gave Wes a smile before riding off, turning right out of the parking lot. Wes watched him go before getting in his car and driving home.

Not even the soft melody of smooth jazz could could keep Travis off his mind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Empty Spaces**

(A/N) Yes, I should be writing Barely Legal. I just couldn't help myself! I would like to thank my wonderful beta, Maryjane! She's always amazing.

**Important Note: This story may be taken down eventually, if the site really intends to go through all the M stories and take out the ones that are MA. If this happens, or if you wish to go there now, you can find this story on A03 under the same title and penname KittyHowell(no space).**

* * *

It only took Travis fifteen minutes to get home. He parked alongside the curb, smiling at the older woman walking her dog as she walked past him. Looking up at the old apartment building, he got off his bike and started inside. The elevator never worked, but Travis didn't mind taking the stairs. He dug for his keys inside his pocket as he reached the fourth floor, taking his time to unlock the door before heading inside. He knew immediately no one else was home. The apartment was silent, not even the sounds of footsteps from the upstairs apartment met his ears. He shrugged his backpack off and let it fall to the ground before slumping onto the couch, tired.

He looked around the apartment as he shrugged off his jacket. The walls were plain, the furniture the exact same way. The room was covered with clothes − both dirty and clean − dirty dishes, and even a few playboy magazines were strewn haphazardly across the floor. Despite living in eighteen different homes with eighteen families, unique in their own way, the apartment reminded him of every home he'd ever lived in. Not because it was plain, but because it was empty. Even when he and his brothers were all there together, it still felt empty. Most of their foster families had tried to make them feel welcome. They told them to call them mom and dad, they took family photos, and even went out together. There were moments of bliss, but Travis always had a voice in the back of his mind. It told him that it would never last, that he'd have to move on eventually, and so would his 'parents' and the only proof that he had ever been there will be the extra hole in his heart.

Travis and his brothers never talked about it. They never needed to. It was unspoken, yet completely understood. Travis felt better with them around. He had grown up with them at one point, looked out for each other like real brothers would. It was just like old times, only here it was almost as if it were real. It was in its own way, Travis knew. They were his family, the closest and realest thing that he had, and he was grateful. He felt more at home with them around. Still, the apartment always seemed empty, off in a way none of them could explain.

Travis' stomach growled, and it was at that moment he remembered he hadn't eaten any lunch. He had some money on him, but he didn't want to waste it in case he needed it. He'd have to fill up on gas soon, too, and he would rather walk and starve than ask for more money. Getting up, he walked from the smallish living room to the kitchenette. Travis had learned to cook a few dishes over the years, especially as he got older and started taking care of his younger siblings more. His brothers were the same way, but they never bothered to buy anything to cook. The three never had a happy family, and few of their foster homes had them eat as one. There was no point in pretending they were now either.

Travis put a tv dinner in the microwave and leaned against the counter with the fork in his mouth, humming to himself. He looked down at his clothes a moment and frowned, fidgeting out of instinct more than anything else. He tugged gently on the undone tie, pulling it off his neck. He set it on the counter and started to unbutton his shirt. He shrugged it off and tossed it on the couch, leaving him half naked. The microwave beeped, alerting him that his 'meal' was done. He started digging into his food, a slight, dissatisfied groan escaping his lips as he ate his not cheesy enough macaroni and cheese. His third foster mother made the best macaroni and cheese. He hadn't eaten any since then that even came close in comparison. He locked himself in his room and sat at his desk to eat. His computer was for school only, the old thing barely being able to handle that, let alone anything else. He finished eating quickly, pushing the plastic container and fork off to the side of his desk. There was at least ten piled up now, and he knew he should clean it up, he was just too lazy to do so.

He quickly undid his pants and shoved them to the corner of his bed before walking over to the small black dresser he had in the corner. He dressed quickly into a pair of jeans and a long sleeve olive green shirt. There was nothing to do in the house, and for a moment Travis actually missed being a child. He missed his foster families, particularly his last one. He made a mental note to call them as he slipped on his jacket and grabbed his keys and sunglasses before walking back out the door.

He didn't work today, but he was bored enough to head over to the shop and see if there was any work that needed to be done there. The garage was a straight shot down the road, just a couple miles past the apartment. There was no sign for the garage, and only certain types of people knew about it and went there. The building, just big enough for four or five cars at a time, was surrounded by the junkyard, hidden from anyone who wasn't specifically looking for it.

Travis had to get off his bike to open and close the gate behind him. He didn't want to alert his brothers that he was coming, in case they tried to send him home straight away. He walked his bike up until it was out of sight from the road, and then continued into the garage. When he lifted up the door, he was met with two guns in his face. When the owners realized it was him, they instantly put down their weapons down, both eyeing him as if they were annoyed.

"Money!" the shorter, Blake, as Travis knew him screamed, "yo baby brother is here!"

"You know he ain't gonna be happy." Manny, the second one, said and Travis only shrugged as he walked past them and towards Money's office.

Travis kept his eyes forward, not really wanting to see what the others around him were doing. They weren't necessarily doing anything illegal, but not everything they were doing was by the books either. The clients that they had acquired weren't always the most stand up people, which was why they carried guns. They were all registered, and only two of the workers there had ever been in jail before, one for petty theft and the other for stealing a car. Still, it wasn't the best place for Travis to be, especially when he wanted a career as a detective. Money didn't want Travis to come at all, but Travis refused to live in his apartment without some form of payment, and Money wasn't about to let him go out on the streets.

When he entered Money's office, the Samoan didn't seem surprised to see him. He was leaning over some paperwork with his glasses on − something very few people knew he needed − and didn't even look up. Travis waited to be acknowledged before sitting down. Money was his big brother and he respected him too much to take over his office. "Need any help?"

"You know you're not supposed to be here," Money told him, but didn't appear to be as angry as he or Manny thought he would be. "Bored at home?" he asked, and then when Travis nodded, "I do need something..." Money handed him a picture of a car part, "Mind looking for it?"

Looking for a part wasn't exactly what Travis had in mind, but it was better than nothing. He looked over the part for a moment, recognizing it as a piece of a '69 Camaro Crossram 302 engine. They didn't have the car itself in the junkyard, any found would be fixed up and sold, but Travis was good at finding small prizes, and knew of random scattered parts on the far corner of the lot. He was sure he could find it there.

Just as he was walking out the door, Money yelled after him, "Don't go climbing on anything, T-Bone!"

"Yeah, yeah," Travis said, grinning, "Oh, and by the way..." Travis looked over his shoulder a moment before looking back at his brother, "if the police do come in here and Manny and Blake pull their guns on them before they can even step inside, we're all going to jail before anyone can say freeze."

Money rolled his eyes, "I'll talk to them, thanks."

Travis closed the door behind him, actually taking a moment to look around the garage this time. There were three cars, two of which looked to be almost done. Manny was doing detail on the paint job for one, and Wheels was polishing off the second car. The third, the car he needed the part for, didn't have anyone working it. Travis knew they must have hit a snag without the part. He studied the car for a moment, happy to be doing something, and then quickly walked back out of the garage and through the junkyard. He took his time, looking over a couple cars and piles as he went, always keeping an eye out for the part. He didn't see it after some time, and with the sun beating down on him in L.A. heat, he was quick to go to the small stash he was sure it was in.

He shed his leather jacket once he got there, carefully hanging it over the fence. He rolled up his sleeves and started to climb up the pile of random pieces, most of which Travis was unsure of what it was. If Money or Wheels saw him climbing, he'd probably get yelled at and dragged down by his collar. As much as the two tried to keep up the manly appearances they loved so much, they were both very protective of Travis, just like they had been when they were still living under the same roof in foster care. Travis loved them like brothers, and was probably even more protective of them than they were of him.

He reached the top of the small mountain of metal and began to look, one foot a step higher than the other to keep himself from falling backwards. He moved the parts around and pulled out anything that resembled the part he needed. He tossed back the ones he didn't need and set aside pieces he knew could probably come in handy later. Finally, just as his jeans were starting to stick to him uncomfortably, Travis caught sight of his prize from the corner of his eye. It was wedged in between two large, heavy parts. Travis knew he'd have to be careful, the part was a rare thing to come by. If he broke it, there was a good chance Money would have to buy the whole engine to get a new one.

Bracing himself with his feet for more support, he grabbed the part firmly, his other hand going to lift the part it was trapped under. It seemed to be caught on something because it wouldn't lift as easily as Travis thought it would. The larger part only weighed twenty pounds or so but it felt three times that. When Travis did lift it up, he almost lost his footing and had to drop it back down in order to catch himself. Grunting, he looked over his shoulder to see how far up he was. It wasn't so high that he could do any real damage, but enough that if he jumped down, his body would ache, and his legs would feel as if ants were crawling up and down them. Briefly, he thought of going back and telling the others where the part was. Money didn't want him climbing at all, and he wouldn't be happy in the slightest if Travis came back with so much as a scratch. But his prize was right there, somehow still in perfect condition and still as shiny as it was when it was first built, gleaming at him in the sun. Travis grinned and tried again, this time bracing his feet harder and lifting swiftly.

He managed to yank the part out, but once again lost his footing. He fell back and tried to grab onto something as he went. He felt a sharp pain in his arm, and for a moment it brought tears to his eyes. A second later they were gone as he fell back, straight down until his back connected painfully with the dirt below him. He laid there with his eyes closed for a moment. His head was pounding, his body aching, and arm throbbing. He groaned when he tried to move, but forced his eyes open and body in an upright position. The sun seemed brighter now, and his arm was bleeding. It wasn't bad, he realized immediately. He wouldn't need stitches, but it still hurt like a bitch. He pulled himself off the ground and tried to shake off the nausea that hit. He grabbed his jacket and slowly made his way over to the garage door. Hanging next to it was a small first aid kit. He wasn't the first to get hurt climbing on things. He opened it quickly and cleaned it a little with some water before wrapping it up. He slowly rolled down his sleeves, careful not to disturb the injury. If anyone saw it, Money wouldn't let him come back until it healed. He threw his jacket on and walked back inside.

Both Manny and Blake looked up as he did, but no one shoved a gun in his face. Manny noticed the part in Travis' hand, and he stood from his spot, leaving his partner to finish the paint detail. He handed it to him once he was in range, grinning like his entire body wasn't on fire. Manny slapped his back, and Travis' grin tightened. Manny didn't seem to notice, but Wheels did and quickly made his way over.

"You climbed on something, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Travis said, never having been a fan of lying to Wheels anymore than Money.

"How bad?"

"Could be worse," Travis told him, and then felt a muscle crick in his back, "but could be better."

"Go home and rest, little brother," Wheels told him, "I'll let Money know you found the part and somethin' else to do."

"Thanks, Wheels."

"Don't think you're getting out of this so easily," he warned, "and you're going to school tomorrow. And practice."

Travis didn't even bother to hide his groan. He nodded and headed out of the garage and towards his bike. He was careful on his way home, making sure to avoid any cars along the way. Out of the corner of his eye, he made sure to watch anyone walking on the side of the road. They weren't in the worst part of town, but it still had its problems, especially with gangs. Travis had been in a foster home in the area growing up. He spent seven months there when he was eight years old. He knew more about the world than most people three times his age, and had watched one of his brothers get beat up by a gang called The Diablos. His foster family was gone now, his 'father' being dead and 'mother' packed up into a nursing home. The house was empty, and it hurt Travis too much to go near it and made a habit of taking other routes.

He parked his bike in the exact spot it was before and made his way up the stairs for the second time. The apartment felt empty as he opened the door, and it hit him like a wave. He almost wanted to leave again, just chill out in the garage or call someone from L.A. High until his brothers were ready to come home. He stopped himself, though, his head pounding a little heavier than before. He instantly went to the bathroom and took two aspirin before going to his bedroom.

He felt a little more at home in his bedroom. He'd never had one to himself before. Usually he shared with three or four different boys at a time. He even shared one with Money and Wheels are one point. When they offered him a place to stay, they made sure to clear out the room and told him to do anything he wanted to it. Travis was fine with crashing on the couch, but they refused to hear it and Travis didn't want to argue anymore than he actually wanted to sleep on the couch.

At first, he did nothing to the room. It had his bed, his dresser, and a smallish TV. Travis didn't feel like it was really his, and that was when Money allowed him to start working at the shop a few times a week. It made Travis feel a little more comfortable, and he allowed himself to hang up a few posters and pictures. The place was a mess, and had a smell to it Travis was so used to he couldn't tell anymore. It wasn't that he didn't respect Money and Wheels; he respected them more than he's ever respected anyone. Travis just knew that no matter what, it wasn't his and he would leave and the only proof that he had ever been there will be the extra hole in his heart just like all his other foster homes. Because, essentially, that's all it was. Money and Wheels seemed to understand that without anyone ever saying anything. Whenever they entered the room, their noses would scrunch up at the smell and they'd kick things out of their way but they never asked him to clean or made any indication that his mess bothered them in any way.

Travis crashed on his bed, groaning because his muscles ached. As he reached for the remote, just a little too far from his reach to be comfortable, he cursed himself for not just telling the others where the part was and leaving. He left the TV on the last channel and settled into his bed. He had homework, he remembered suddenly, from Physics with Ms Percy. He wouldn't normally do it. He had enough of the assignment done to pass, but Travis was bored enough to do it once he could manage to get up and grab his backpack from the living room.

There was a sex scene in the show. It looked real enough and both the people involved were pretty hot. Travis felt his blood run south. A little annoyed with himself, he thought about the last time he'd had sex. It wasn't like he had sex on a regular basis, and only had sex a couple dozen times in the last four years he'd been having it. He could still count on one hand how many people he's had sex with, and usually spent his teenage moments alone rather than in the company of someone else. The last girl he'd slept with, Randi, didn't want to see him after their breakup. Besides, she was still underage, and he wasn't taking the chance now that he was eighteen. It had been a couple months since he moved in with Money and Wheels, and he hadn't had any real privacy or downtime since he'd been here.

He turned the TV on mute, and looked up at the ceiling for a moment. He could feel himself go completely hard a minute later. He rubbed himself through his jeans, and, knowing that no one would be home for a while, let out a moan. He undid his jeans and slowly pulled them and his boxers down, just enough for his cock to spring free. He stroked once, twice; rubbing his thumb over the head and pulling slightly.

He thought of Randi first. She was beautiful with dark skin, curly hair, and a thin waist. It felt odd thinking of her. While Randi had known about his reputation, she had still fallen harder for him than Travis had intended. He liked her, but he didn't like her enough to keep her around. She'd been hurt by their break-up, and Travis felt guilty thinking of his friend in such a way after what he put her through. He then thought of Dr. Ryan and her long, sculpted legs, but quickly pushed that out of his mind. Next, he thought of nameless and faceless women. Each had long legs, slim waistlines and soft delicate hands. It still didn't give him what he wanted, so he tried men instead. Each was smaller than him, but still in good shape. It still wasn't helping. Just as he was about to give up, he imagined one straddling his waist, their slender and strong hands stroking him firmly. And suddenly, the picture above him morphed into someone he knew. Wes.

Travis closed his eyes tighter and squeezed a little harder as he imaged Wes' grey-blue eyes staring at him from above. He bit his lip, moaning, as he pictured Wes' lean and sculpted body pressed against his. He thought back to gym class, when he and Wes were pressed up against one another, the towel being the only thing separating them. Wes hadn't been hard, but he had been getting there, and Travis had been in the same boat. He knew if he'd spent another minute there, he'd give away his secret to the entire class. He erased the others from his mind, leaving only him and the blond pressed tight against each other. Wes' chest and stomach were nicely developed, as were his arms and legs. He noticed it in first hour but didn't know the full extent until gym. He thought about what he could have done if they had been alone.

Travis fingered at Wes' towel, grinning as he leaned forward and nibbled lightly on Wes' neck. Wes moaned, throaty and harsh as he scratched at Travis' sides. The darker grinned and he kissed his lips, bruising and hot. He kept one finger tucked in the fabric of the smaller's towel, his other hand snaking around to grope his ass. He ground into him, causing Wes to moan into his mouth. He ground down harder and Wes moaned again, pulling back and resting his forehead against Travis' shoulder. Wes desperately rutted against him and Travis groaned out loud, both in his daydream and in real life.

He stroked once, a second time, and then a third. Travis groaned, feeling the familiar coil in his lower stomach. He covered his head with his hand as he came, his toes curling in. He laid there for a moment, just breathing. He wiped his hand on his sheet and slowly pulled his pants back into place. He needed another shower, he realized, and was once again reminded of his homework awaiting him in the living room. He pulled himself up and walked to the bathroom. He quickly undressed and got in, taking a moment to enjoy the water running down his back before washing up. Travis pulled himself from the warmth after five minutes and wrapped his towel around his waist. He grabbed his backpack and headed back into his room, plopping down on his bed with his bag on the floor. He put on a pair of boxers and sweatpants and dried his hair before opening his bag and cracking open a book.

He took Wes' pencil from the front pocket, turning it over in his hand before going to work. He shouldn't have been thinking about Wes during, and almost felt guilty for doing so now. It wasn't like Wes wasn't attracted to him. It wasn't obvious, but Travis was always good at noticing subtleties. Still, Wes had a girlfriend, and even if he didn't want to kiss her in the lunchroom earlier, he didn't seem like the type to date just to date. And Travis wasn't looking to date anyone seriously, even if Wes made his blood boil in a way he couldn't help but love. It was a shame, really. Wes seemed like the type of person to keep his private life private from people, and even his public life as secret as possible. Travis was sure that, if they had slept together, Wes would never tell a soul.

He felt awkward after he saw Alex kiss his cheek. Travis wasn't sure what he was going to do when he started walking over to him. Probably tease him about something, ruffle his feathers to see that glare Wes had been giving him all day. He would have probably flirted a little, not that he hadn't been flirting with him pretty much the whole time. He had meant to pull back, but then they had been paired together and Wes had been so cute and Travis just_ couldn't_ help himself.

_Tomorrow_, he told himself, as he put his finished homework away. Tomorrow he'd leave Wes alone. Travis fiddled with the pencil another moment before putting it away as well. It was a lie, he knew. It would be impolite not to return the pencil.

He_ did_ promise, after all.


	4. Chapter 4

(A/N) Yes, I should be writing Barely Legal. I just couldn't help myself! I would like to thank my wonderful beta, Maryjane! She's always amazing. And I have started Barely Legal...It just hasn't gotten very far!

**Important Note: This story may be taken down eventually, if the site really intends to go through all the M stories and take out the ones that are MA. If this happens, or if you wish to go there now, you can find this story on A03 under the same title and penname KittyHowell(no space).**

* * *

**Chapter Four: Empty Space, Part Two**

There was a moment - though miniscule, still monumental in its effect - where Wes actually allowed himself to stray from his normal routine. Wes liked to drive, liked the freedom, and liked the idea of being in control of something so big and heavy and so capable of doing so much damage. It appealed to him in a way others couldn't understand. Not that Wes expected or hoped that they would. He had learned a long time ago that he wasn't normal. It wasn't 'unique' in the way parents told their children to be, but abnormal in such a way that wasn't always healthy, a way that made others uncomfortable just by him being in the room. And while Wes did not wish to become the mindless meathead most of the other boys his age were, he did wish to be...healthy. Whole.

Wes allowed himself some leeway for when he needed to be home. Because he loved to drive and loved the feel of the steering wheel beneath his fingers and the pedal beneath his foot, Wes allowed himself to take his time whenever he didn't have anywhere to be. It was really a part of his routine, as it happened on a regular basis without pause for thought. Wes didn't think about that, though; he couldn't. It was probably the only thing he did without worry, without the pressure of his illness, and without fear.

Wes would never admit it, but it was also a gateway for his father to make it home. His father had a habit of making promises he couldn't keep. No, Wes mused to himself, his inner voice sounding as bitter as his outer, he just doesn't bother to keep them. Wes' heart would always speed up the moment he turned into the neighborhood, and would only increase with each turn he made. When he finally reached his street, his heart would stop, if only for a second and then return to a normal pace. His father's car was distinctive, the only one on the block with its custom color.

It wasn't there.

It never was, and, briefly, Wes wondered when he would stop acting like a child. His hopes would be brought up with false promises he knew would not be kept, and yet, he allowed himself to fall for it each and every time. And each and every time he was left with this feeling, consisting of guilt, anger, resentment, and sorrow. He hated himself for feeling it, but knowing it all was never enough to make the feeling go away.

Wes parked his car where it belonged and got out, looking around for anything unusual. He didn't see anything but his neighbor, who made a habit of sitting outside in the sun while she read. She was nice. Wes didn't really like her, but he didn't dislike her either. He waved, because it was what his mother had taught him to do. She waved back, an obvious smile on her face. It made him feel awkward, like she knew something he didn't. He hurried into the house, quick enough to get away, but not so much where it appeared he was running. He was, but no one else needed to know that.

The air conditioner wasn't on, which meant no one was home. Of course, he had already known that. His mother's car wasn't in the driveway, either. He walked into the kitchen to look at the note placed on the refrigerator, the piece of parchment held by a pink magnet with the words 'I love you' engraved on it. His mother only used it when she left him a note. Wes had never been sure how he had felt about that.

_Wes,  
I had to go to the market. I somehow forgot the cheese your father loves. Be back soon.  
Love, Mom.  
PS. I'm sorry about your father. _

"I feel like a rube," Wes murmured, taking the note down and dropping it carefully in the garbage can. He checked what was for dinner, a simple casserole his mother had finished preparing except for the cheese his father wanted. Wes walked up the stairs to his room, quietly closing the door behind him while he flicked the light on. He was reminded of his locker, bland and empty. He forced the thoughts out of his head and placed his backpack down next to his desk. He placed his laptop at an angle so he could have more room for his studies. Wes hadn't been expecting homework on the first day, not even the math teachers did that to their students. Ms. Percy was an interesting person, though, and that was putting it mildly. He had finished the assignment in class, but wanted to check over his work and answers. Ms Percy had a horrible teaching style, and Wes was unusually concerned about whether or not he actually knew the material. He finished quickly, only finding one mistake in the entire assignment. He fixed it quickly and double checked before packing up his things and putting them away.

His chore list was placed neatly at the corner of his desk. He stared at it a moment before standing up and changing. He got undressed, taking each piece off and placing it neatly on his bed until he was completely nude except for his boxers. He walked to his closet and pulled out a pair of black slacks, ones not much different from his school uniform, and a blue button down shirt. He changed quickly, stuffing the shirt in his pants and doing his best to relax. He took a hanger and neatly hung up his school uniform before placing in in the closet and moving to the bathroom. He checked his hair and brushed his teeth before going back into his room for the list.

His father wasn't here to help him, but that didn't mean he was going to save it for another day. The first thing on the list was the fix the light in the hallway, just outside his room. He went in the garage for the necessary tools. He looked over the list at what he had to do, and decided to just take the entire toolbox and step ladder with him. He fixed the light in twenty minutes time, flicking the switch on and off to make sure it worked before crossing it off and moving on to the next thing: putting up the new shower curtain in his parent's bathroom. It was a mint green color, and it made Wes want to vomit just by being around it. He was glad it was going in the master bathroom and not one where he'd have to see it, or God forbid, actually shower with it. It was a compromise between his parents. His father's fondness of green mixed with his mother's love of unusual things. He hooked it up in under five minutes and quickly crossed it off his list and moved on to the third task.

Wes took out the garbage, fixed the dishwasher, did the dishes, checked and cleaned the gutters, and painted an old rocking chair his father was using to woo a client at work with. By the time he was done, it was after six o'clock and he realized he hadn't eaten since that morning. He went into the bathroom to wash up a little before heading back down to the kitchen. His mother was there watering plants in the window when he did.

"There you are," she said happily, turning her head to look at him. "I couldn't find you after I got home."

"I was working my way through the list," Wes told her, looking around. "Did you just get home?"

"Mhm," his mother turned back to her plants, "no, I got home a while ago. I finished dinner. It's in the fridge if you want some." Wes walked over and opened the door. The finished casserole was in the fridge, still steaming. She must have just put it in. He took it out, his stomach rumbling again. He got a plate and fork and placed the meal in the microwave, just in case. He looked at the floor and then back at his mother, who was still watering her plants and humming to herself.

"Where did you go?"

"What, dear?"

"Where did you go?"

"To the store, sweetie. Didn't you get my note?" Wes frowned, taking his dinner out of the microwave and heading upstairs to eat it. "Wes, honey?" He didn't answer, and slowly and gently closed the door behind him, looking at the clock as he sat down.

The casserole only had a cook time of about twenty minutes, and it was still cooling down. It was safe to say his mother had just gotten home half an hour ago, as Wes had just been in the kitchen to fix the dishwasher and then outside to clean the gutters. Her car hadn't been in the driveway. Wes hadn't thought about it at the time, but the market was a combined ten minute drive, there and back, and she had only bought the one thing. Wes couldn't help but wonder what else she had been doing and where she had been. It wasn't really any of his business, but he couldn't stop himself from being curious.

Shaking his head, he slowly started to dig into his food. It was good. His mother had always been a good cook, and had taught him everything he knew about cooking. He'd probably be more happy with it if he didn't eat it at least once or twice a week. His mother had been sneaking off lately. Not really sneaking, per se, but she was always going some place and staying for longer than was really necessary or possible. His father was very rarely home for dinner. He made a habit of eating his wife's meals whenever he got home, if he had noticed the frequency of the casserole, he hadn't said anything to his knowledge.

He finished quickly and went back downstairs. He turned on the water and cleaned his plate and fork before drying them and putting them away. His mother was nowhere to be seen, probably in her room, and Wes was grateful for that. He really didn't want to face her at the moment. He wanted answers, but knew it wasn't particularly his place. At the same time, he wouldn't apologise for his questions. He also didn't need to hear her laughing at him for washing his dishes right after he used them. Wes was quite aware of the dishwasher's purpose, but hated to see dishes laying in the sink until there was enough to run it.

When Wes was finished, he walked over to the kitchen window and looked out and frowned upon seeing that his father's car still wasn't there. It was six-thirty now, but Wes wasn't expecting him home any time soon. His phone rang and he was even more disappointed to see that it was his father. He picked it up after the second ring, "...and I need those files on my desk by seven, Brooke. No, seven. Son? Wesley, are you there?"

"Yes," Wes said, though he knew he wasn't really listening. He was still raving to the poor paralegal who somehow managed to work with his father day in and day out. "What do you need?"

"I need you to go into my office."

"..."

"I need you to grab a file for me. Brooke deleted it from my computer and I need to know the numbers on the top right. Can you do that for me?"

"Uh, yeah, sure dad." Wes said, more than a little confused. His father never allowed him to go into the office, not even when his father was there. He never even let his mother go into the office. It was like his man cave, even though all he ever did was work in it. His father never stopped working, so Wes guessed it wasn't much different from an actual man cave. There was a very comfy couch in there, he knew. At least, that's what his mother said. It was the only explanation his mother had for his father sleeping in there more often than their own bed. She'd always given a dry laugh when she said it, and Wes was unsure who was more bitter over his father's work habits; his mother or himself. "Where is it exactly?"

"Top right drawer."

Wes coughed, turning around and walking to his father's office. The door was always closed, but never locked. It was unspoken that no one would ever go in there, and because of that, his father never bothered to lock it. Wes admired that his father had everyone under that control, but at the same time, he resented it. He, too, was under that control. Wes pretended like his father didn't have that effect on him, that he just didn't want to go inside, but he knew he was lying to himself. And Wes was pretty good at lying to himself.

Wes opened the door and hesitated. It was dark inside, the hot sun being blocked by the curtains covering the two windows. Wes rolled his eyes, annoyed with himself, and went inside. The office was clean, just like the rest of the house. Somehow it felt different, and Wes almost felt guilty for tracking his feet over the carpet, like he was stepping on a perfect patch of freshly fallen snow. He carefully opened his father's desk drawer and took out the manilla folders that were there. "Surname?" There were five folders, all incredibly large with information that Wes could only process to a certain extent. His father had written notes along the side of the papers. Unlike everything else, they were scattered, messy, and none of them made any sense to him. He was snooping, and Wes hated those who stuck their noses in other people's business. He knew this was probably the only time he'd see the office, though, and he couldn't stop himself from being curious.

"Archer," his father mumbled, and Wes was only half sure he was actually talking to him. The file was the last one and Wes opened the folder and scattered the papers across the desk neatly. There was only one with a number on the top right of any of the papers. "It's the fourth page in the folder."

"139678124-09."

"Are you sure it's a hyphen?"

"I know what a hyphen is, dad."

His father mumbled something he couldn't hear, before saying, "Put the files back in the same position and leave, okay?"

"..." He hung up before Wes could answer.

Wes put the files back and closed the drawer as carefully as he had opened it. He walked out, taking one last look behind him before closing the door. He stood there for a moment, unsure what he should do. He didn't have anything to do but he didn't want to waste the day. Went back into the kitchen and looked out the window, his frown deepening at seeing his mother getting in her car and leaving the driveway. He thought about calling her, but decided against it and went up to his room to change. Despite no one being home, he closed the door, feeling naked before ever taking an article of clothing off. He hung his outfit up on its original hanger and pulled out his workout clothes; black shorts and a dark blue t-shirt. He grabbed his running shoes and ipod and went downstairs to grab a bottle of water. He sat at the dinner table as he put his shoes on, casually drinking the bottle of water as he mapped out his usual routine in his mind. He finished the bottle of water in one gulp and put it in the recycling bin before leaving the house, locking the door behind him.

He ran down the street, taking the long way to get to the park. He went straight into the forest and down the trail. Wes wanted to run without having to think about where he was going. His neighborhood and the neighborhoods around it were all the same. They had one route to run, while the other streets ended in dead ends and small cul de sacs. Wes wanted more variety than that. Hardly anyone went on the trail, usually just kids up to no good or hanging around and talking. Wes barely noticed them. He just ran around them and kept his eyes forward. The trail had many twists and turns and it was easy to get lost if one didn't know where they were going. Wes ran there almost everyday and could navigate it with his eyes closed. He focused solely on his music, getting lost in the melody.

Wes could register how much time went when his ankles start to hurt. His footsteps started to get heavier and his breath started to come out in small, shallow puffs. He pushed through the pain and before long his entire body went numb, including the burning in his lungs. He lost track of time afterward until his ipod turned to Hearts of Longing. He slowed to a stop and turned around, not even bothering to look up to see where he was. He walked down the trail, slowly picking up speed until he was in a full out run again. He ran through the trail a couple of times before heading home. When he got back, his mother was home again, and so was his father.

He walked in the door as quietly as possible, not wanting his parents to know he was home yet. He wasn't sure why he was snooping again. All he knew was that his gut was telling him that something was wrong. He took his shoes off at the door and held them in one hand as he slowly made his way through the house. His father's office light was off, Wes could see nothing but darkness at the crack of the closed door, but neither was in the living room or kitchen. He put the shoes in his closet before walking down the hall to their bedroom. He couldn't honestly remember the last time his parents had both been in their bedroom together with the door closed. His father had been known to sleep on the couch in his office, and when he did go to bed in their room, he went long after Wes' mother had.

"Sheryl, please, just listen to me."

"No, Jeff. I'm tired of listening."

Wes' parents fought a lot. They had ever since he was a kid. His mind was full of memories of them arguing. Rarely did they ever scream at one another, both too reserved for that. His mother threw things on occasion and his father had the tendency to walk out before the conversation was over, but they never screamed. Wes always wondered if it would be better for them if they did. Wes felt awkward listening to their conversation, but he had to know what was going on.

"I'm closing a really big case," Jeff went on, despite Sheryl's annoyance. Wes could hear her sigh.

"You always say that."

"I work on a lot of big cases," Jeff said, casually, as if it was obvious and he was already done with the conversation.

"When are we going to spend time together as a family?"

"Soon."

"Jeff!"

His father sighed, "Dinner?"

"Wes already ate."

"How about just you and me then?" There was a pause. "I have time before I have to start working on the case. I just won't be to bed until late."

"...I already ate, too." Sheryl sounded angry. "Just go work on the case and honey..."

"Yeah?"

"Try to get to bed on time."

His father made a sound, a mix between saying yes and an amused huff. Wes walked backwards until he reached his bathroom. He stripped down and got into the shower. He could hear his father walk past and down the stairs, to his office, Wes was sure. His mother followed a couple minutes later. Wes washed the sweat out of his hair and off his body before getting out. He dried off quickly and went back to his room, changing back into his clothes from earlier.

He sat at his desk and turned his laptop on. It was just past eight-thirty, and Wes didn't have anything left to do. He signed into facebook, an odd feeling in his gut he would never admit was there. Wes checked over a few of his 'friend's' statuses, rolling his eyes more often than not. It didn't take long; he only had forty-three friends, most of which he never talked to in person. They were friends of Alex's, and he had been invited as their friend because of that. Wes hated facebook; he wished he could delete it. His mother and Alex wouldn't allow it, though, and he resented them both for sharing more with each other than him. He didn't have any pictures up, or videos, nor did he ever 'like' anything. Wes felt it was a waste of time, and he didn't like posing for a camera. Alex had numerous pictures of herself, with other people, and even with her family. But none of the two of them. She had tons of friends, as did most of the other people that frequently spoke with her.

Wes, admittedly, felt a bit like a loser. He was well aware of his attitude, the cynical asshole he called his personality. Wes sometimes wanted to change that, but knew he couldn't. He knew the world for what it was, had listened to his father about how the world worked and what his cases were about. Wes knew that others weren't fans of him and that he made them rather uncomfortable at times, but Wes couldn't be anyone other than who he was. Not just because that would make him uncomfortable, but because he couldn't let his guard down.

Despite knowing he shouldn't, Wes clicked to look at his wall. It was blank, save for two posts that Alex had left him and one from Dakota. The first of Alex's was a youtube video of some song she couldn't get out of her head a couple weeks before. Wes wasn't a fan, but he listened to it for Alex's sake, and posted a song of smooth jazz on her wall in reply. She 'liked' it, but they never talked about it. The second was a short message, a reminder of a project they did together the year before. Wes didn't like having his personal business on the wall like that, even though it was for school and still relatively vague. He thought about taking it down, but never did. Somehow he felt like that would be even more pathetic.

Dakota had decided to check up on him during the summer once. A couple weeks had gone by since they had seen each other when school let out. Wes was busy working and Dakota had been sweet enough to ask how he was. She had asked a couple people she hadn't seen, and that had actually made him feel more appreciative of the gesture. She treated him like a friend, and Wes would never admit it, but Dakota was probably his favorite of his 'friends'. Even if she did usually abandon them for Peter and the football idiots. They would probably be closer if he allowed them to be. When he saw it for the first time, he hadn't responded. He wasn't going to, but eventually caved. They had a small conversation, simple 'how are you's' and 'what have you been up to.' She asked for his number and that's where it ended. He didn't give it to her, and she accepted that and Wes never felt any more awkward around her after than he did before.

There were a few people on chat, most he couldn't picture faces with names and others he didn't care for. Ryan was on, but Wes didn't really like him, despite being around him on a regular basis. Their fathers worked together, though, and so Wes was stuck with him until graduation. At first Wes had thought they'd be relatively good friends. Their fathers worked on similar cases, sometimes the same. They worked similar hours and Wes thought that Ryan would understand better than anyone what it was like. He didn't. In fact, Ryan didn't seem to understand at all. He never seemed to care about his father's absence and Wes was angry straight down to his bones for that but has always kept his mouth shut.

He was about to get off when a new status popped up on his screen. It was Dakota, and seeing her name, Wes actually paused to read it. It said she was hanging out with Peter on his only day off from practice during the week, and Wes found himself almost smiling over that fact. Dakota really loved Peter, and Wes had noticed the look on her face while staring at him earlier. For a while he thought something may have been wrong, but it didn't appear so now. Within seconds, Peter liked the status. He thought about liking it himself, but didn't. Wes was once again about to get off when it changed again. He stopped, looking at the blue highlighted name that had appeared and felt something in his stomach he couldn't quite name.

Travis Marks.

He shouldn't have paused, but he did, and it was too long of a moment to deny that it happened. He hesitated, but clicked on the name and went to his profile. Despite the two not being friends, Wes could see everything Travis had posted. Wes rolled his eyes at that, making a mental note to tell him about how irresponsible it was to leave information like that lying around. The thought died, though, when he saw that there was none. Travis didn't have where he lived, where he went to school, or where he worked. He didn't have his birthday, either. And Wes felt something in his heart twitch at why that probably was. He had tons of friends and posts and other things on his wall.

Wes felt almost dirty for looking at his profile like he was. He felt like he was stalking him. Travis has his settings to public, though, and so Wes refused to feel guilty. He clicked on photos, rolling his eyes at just how many there was. Most of them were of him and other people. He didn't look like any of them, and Wes figured they must be his foster family. They looked to be taken at parties, the kind a family throws for holidays. There were a few of him working on cars. Wes was impressed. He loved cars, and if Travis knew even a little about them, he was almost considered okay in Wes' book. Wes' eyes wandered over each photo, taking a few seconds to check them out before moving on. He stopped at one photo in particular, his mouth going dry. Before he could stop himself, he clicked on it to see the bigger image.

Travis was standing alone in the middle of the room. He looked comfortable, his eyes looking in a different direction of the camera. He was shirtless, his arms stretched behind him just enough to show off all his muscles. His pants, or whatever he was wearing, couldn't be seen in the photo. Whatever they were, they must have been low on his hips because it looked like he was completely naked. Wes could see the muscles of his hips, and he was standing at just the right angle to see the muscles that dipped straight into his groin.

Wes' cock sprang to life, and he bit his lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. Wes didn't usually get this way. He was normally too wrapped up in his own mind to think about things like this. Sure, he thought about sex, and he wasn't exactly innocent but he never masturbated. It was too messy, and Wes only did it in his early adolescent years before his OCD got too bad. Wes wasn't sure he could ignore this one, though, and after making sure his parents were both downstairs, he closed and locked his door. It was almost time for bed, anyway. He changed into a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt, and turned his light off before slipping into bed. He lowered his pants slightly and hesitantly wrapped a hand around his cock. He bit his lip again, softer this time, if only to stop himself from moaning.

Wes closed his eyes, making slow, hesitant movements. He thought of Alex, imagining her there with him. He hadn't seen her completely naked before, but had seen enough to paint a pretty decent picture. He struggled for a couple of minutes, groaning in frustration. He sighed, opening his eyes and lying back. He cast a glance in his laptop's direction. He hadn't turned it off, but by then it had gone black. He felt scared, like he was about to be caught doing what he was about to do before he even moved to do it. Swallowing thickly, he pulled his pants up and slowly, silently, pulled himself out of bed. He took his laptop from his desk and turned the screen back on. Travis' picture was still up, and he felt his dick jump.

He set it down on his bed and laid back down under the covers. He laid there for a moment, listening for any sign of someone coming up the stairs. He heard none, and took one more glance at the picture before lowering his pants and boxers again. He hesitated once more, not completely comfortable with what he was doing. He looked at Travis' picture again, and his breath hitched, his hand squeezing his dick without his brain telling it to. He sped up in his strokes, moaning softly. He had seen Travis naked earlier, had felt his body pressed against him. He knew what was just out of sight in the picture and he...he wanted it. Before he had been so shocked, but now...Wes sped up in his movements, squeezing harder. He bit his lip to stop from moaning, his eyes never leaving his laptop.

He wondered what Travis' hand would feel like. He imagined it being a little rough, bigger and stronger than his own. He pressed harder, and accidentally flicked his thumb over the slit. He did it again, and once more, enjoying the feeling. He started to pant, his back arching a little off the bed. He felt a burning in his pelvis. It traveled lower, and lower until he finally came. It sprayed all over his hand and stomach and he just laid there, panting as he stared up at the ceiling.

Once he began to calm down, Wes started to feel guilty, his heart and stomach twisting simultaneously. He almost felt as if he had betrayed Alex. Like he had cheated on her. It felt strangely familiar to the feeling he had when Travis had walked into Physics and he hadn't wanted Alex and him to meet. He looked back at the photo and had to force the lump in his throat down. He closed it without exiting or turning it off, something he never did. He felt as if he used Travis, and almost wanted to apologize for using the photo as he had. It was ridiculous. Wes could never tell anyone what just happened, especially Travis and Alex.

_God, how am I supposed to face them tomorrow?_ Wes started to clean up, using the roll of paper towels he kept in his room just in case something happened. He pulled his pants back up and hid the paper towels in his trash can in the corner of the room. Wes yawned as he placed his laptop back in its appropriate place. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking. Wes didn't ever remember being attracted to men before, but Wes had never bothered to really look. He was attracted to Alex. She was beautiful, but he had always been more attracted to her touch than her looks, if he ever was at all. Wes pushed the thoughts out of his mind, not wanting to think about what this would mean. It couldn't mean what it seemed, it _couldn't_ .

It took him a moment, but Wes managed to calm himself down. He plugged his phone in, set his alarm and crawled back into bed. Despite the guilty feeling burning in his stomach, Wes went to bed feeling better than he had in a long time.

And more scared than he ever remembered being.


	5. Chapter 5

_(A/N) I do apologize for the wait. School and work got the best of me and of course, my laptop broke down so I had to send it in. I actually wrote this chapter from the app on my phone and am posting from my boyfriend's computer, which is used for gaming and so it has a gaming keyboard. The keys are shifted. You would laugh at my spelling mistakes._

_I'd love to hear feedback!_

* * *

** Chapter Five: Beautiful Friendship **

Wes walked into Dr. Ryan's classroom twenty minutes before class was supposed to begin. Dr. Ryan was setting up, organizing papers into piles and setting them aside on her desk, neatly. No one else was there. In fact, the entire school was nearly empty. Most of the teachers hadn't bothered to show up yet. Wes liked to be early and he always made sure to leave the house so he could get to school at least thirty minutes before the starting bell actually rang. Coming to school early gave him the opportunity to get the parking space he wanted, make sure everything was in order, and get to class without having to deal with the crowds. Wes was long past the point of feeling awkward about it. In middle school, the other kids used to make fun of him for it. It had stung at the time, but the blond's skin had thickened since he was twelve.

Dr. Ryan's door was wide open, but Wes still felt like he was intruding. He felt awkward standing there, but couldn't make himself walk in or back away. It only took her a moment to realize he was there. She looked up, smiled and welcomed him into the room with a semi-cheery "Good morning." She didn't appear to be a morning person, and for that alone, Wes was grateful. Wes was an early riser, but people who were overly awake and cheerful bothered him more than usual. It was probably the one downside to Dakota that Wes had done his best to overlook. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes it didn't. "Please, sit," Dr. Ryan spoke up again, and Wes hesitated for another moment before stepping inside and walking to his seat.

Wes wasn't pleased with it. He usually likes the sit up front, and had, originally picked the spot right in the middle. In actuality, Wes would prefer a spot at the end. That way he wouldn't feel so watched, but he wanted to be able to see all of the board, and even more so, wanted to prove to himself that sitting there wouldn't bother him. If nothing else, it was a small push out of his comfort zone, and the therapist his mother forced him to see every now and again had always told him a little push would be okay. The man was an idiot; Wes decided it the very first moment they met, but some of the things he said made some sense. Dr. Ryan had asked him to move at the start of class. One of the students who had come in late couldn't see where he was sitting, even with his glasses. Wes was rather annoyed with the request. The kid should have come earlier if he knew he couldn't see. Still, Wes moved without saying anything. He didn't want to cause any problems.

Wes turned to look at Travis' desk for a moment before sitting down. When he looked up, Dr. Ryan was staring at him. She lowered her head a second later, carrying on with her business as if nothing had happened. And nothing had happened. She had just been looking at him. There was nothing wrong with that. But then, something had happened and it was a problem. Wes wanted to ask her what she was looking at, just why she was staring at him. He bit his tongue. It wasn't right, wasn't fair. Wes knew that, but that didn't make it any better.

Instead of saying anything, he settled into his seat and took his small school planner out of his backpack. He placed it in the middle of his desk and opened to the appropriate page. Wes wasn't the biggest fan of the planner, despite liking the idea behind them. Students were meant to use them to keep track of tests, quizzes, homework assignments, and even extra curricular activities. They were used mostly for spitballs, projectiles, and paper for passing notes. The front was black with red lettering - the school's name and motto being on top and bottom. The middle had a picture of the school's mascot, the bird flexing its wing like an arm with an angry expression on his face. Most of the students peeled off the top layer and placed stickers over the cover. Just seeing it bothered him.

He took out his pencil case and took a black, red, and blue pen out. He went over each thing listed on the previous day, using the blue pen to check them off. He used the black to write down the reading Dr. Ryan had placed on the board, and the red for the homework just below it. A few others came in to drop off their stuff before leaving quickly. A small group of girls were giggling on the other side of the room. Wes let his ears strain to hear what they were talking about − if only to make sure they weren't talking about him − before tuning them out as best he could. A couple more minutes passed and more and more students piled in, each louder than the next. Soon the room was filled with students, some of which didn't belong. They chatted about this and that, nothing too important and Wes had to try harder to tune of them all out. He took a book out of his bag and despite knowing he had little time, flipped open to the first page and began to read. It was easier to pretend he was alone when he read, and it was better than listening to music constantly. He tended to listen to it too loud, and was worried he'd damage his ear drums. His taste in music was also very different from people his age, and he didn't need to be looked at any more differently than he already was.

The warning bell rang, and the students who didn't belong left with some encouragement from Dr. Ryan. Wes actually smirked a little before he continued with his reading. He'd almost finished the page, and it would be a good cut off point for when the bell rang. He could feel movement around him, see the shifting colors and shadows from the corner of his eyes as the students moved to get to their seats.

He could feel Travis when he walked in the door.

The air changed when he did, and Wes wasn't sure why or how. All he knew was that Travis had walked in and he was actually on time. Something in Wes twitched. Part of him was disappointed. He wanted him to be late so he wouldn't have to react to him like the day before. Another part of him was excited, and Wes wasn't used to feeling that. He swallowed thickly as Travis took his place next to him. The darker man was staring at him but Wes refused to look up. He was almost done. He finished the last few sentences quickly but didn't close the book until the final bell actually rang. He set it back in his sack; gently to make sure it didn't wrinkle the corners of the cover before closing it and setting his full attention to Dr. Ryan.

"...and, while you're at it, please follow Mr. Mitchell's example and write down the homework and reading in your planners, and also get a book to read for silent reading time. We'll start tomorrow. You'll all have fifteen minutes to read every Thursday morning whatever book of your choosing as long as it's more than 150 pages and it is not_ Twilight_."

The girls in the class groaned, and Travis beside him chuckled. _"Earth Unaware_, huh? From _Ender's Game_." His voice was muffled, his lips barely moving. Wes looked at him from the corner of his eye; Travis was looking at him the same way. "Good series."

Wes hesitated a moment, "...yeah."

"I've been meaning to pick up_ Shadows in Flight,_" Travis told him.

Wes smiled a little. He had actually just finished the book the other day. Both had come out in the last few months, and Wes had been quick to buy them. "I own it."

"Can I borrow it?" Travis asked, turning slightly. Wes could see a twinkle in his eyes and he almost found himself smiling. Travis was making fun of him. No, not making fun. He was teasing him as if they were friends. Wes wasn't sure how he felt about that. A little annoyed, he had to admit, but something else. And it was that something that almost had him smiling.

"I can bring it tomorrow," Wes said casually. There was nothing wrong with Travis borrowing the book. He may destroy or lose it, but if he didn't give it to him, Travis would probably bug him until he did.

"I'd like that," Travis said back and the two then turned their attention back to Dr. Ryan who was explaining how the day would go.

"...and furthermore, I do not write my notes down. Yesterday I did because it was the first day but from now on I will only speak and you will have to write down the important notes on paper. If you go to the bathroom or miss a class, it is up to you to talk to your classmates. That's a part of this class − communication. Not only with me but the people around you. Does everyone understand?" A pause, "All right, if there are no questions, let's get started. Before we get into the notes and discussion, please take the time to read chapter one of your book. It is quite interesting."

Wes opened his book and started reading. Psychology wasn't his favorite subject, but he found it interesting. It was also something he'd have to take in college if he didn't take the AP class now, and Wes had the place in his schedule. He didn't see why he couldn't get a head start. The first chapter was basic stuff, most of which he already knew. He learned a couple of interesting things and made little mental notes so he could learn more about them later. Wes was a nerd in pretty much every since of the word. He knew that. At the same time, though, he wasn't. It wasn't that he found joy in school or learning. Not in the way other 'nerds' did. He just believed in being his best at everything he did and that included school.

Wes finished pretty quickly and took a moment to look around the room. A few were pretending to read, most of them doing a poor job at it. Most others seemed to be actually reading the chapter, and very few seemed to be remotely interested. Travis was just finishing. He shut his book and leaned back in his seat before looking around the room as well. Finally, his eyes landed on Wes. The blonde averted his eyes a second too late and Wes could feel Travis' smirk on him. Travis started to twirl his pencil between his fingers and Wes knew instantly that it was the one he lent him the day before. He had half a mind to snatch it from his hand. Travis had promised to return it and didn't, after all. Wes did his best to ignore him, keeping his eyes forward and looking at the board.

A minute later, Dr. Ryan stood from her spot at her desk and came around to sit in front of the class in a desk she'd pulled up front. "Okay, everybody," she said, "I see the most of you who actually started to read have finished. It's okay if you haven't. Let's get into a circle and I'll go over the notes and we can answer any questions and discuss the material if we have time today."

Wes rolled his eyes, moving with the rest of the students as they placed their desks in a large circle around the room. Wes felt more uncomfortable; he was closer than before now. He could touch elbows with the person sitting next to him if he wanted to or even on accident. He'd have to be careful. As if on cue, someone bumped his elbow. He frowned, turning his head to look at the person. Travis grinned back at him, and it wasn't until then that Wes realized Travis had followed him to the back of the room, straight across from Dr. Ryan. His pencil was tucked behind his ear, his smile almost blinding.

Dr. Ryan began to speak, going over some key points before delving in a little deeper into each one. Wes had already grabbed his stuff and was ready to begin, his eyes down as he wrote what Dr. Ryan said. Travis had to hurry to get his stuff out before Dr. Ryan got too far into her discussion. Wes felt the corner of his mouth lift a little, but didn't look away from his paper or stop writing. Travis frowned but continued to write. Most of the other students kept up with the speed Dr. Ryan had set, but after some time, it became clear that not everyone had. A couple of the students started to raise their hand and ask questions about what she had said.

"Hm, it's okay if you haven't kept up. Here, I'll start back with the topic on the top of page three and go from there. Slower, this time. If you've kept up, good for you. Take a break."

Travis leaned back in his seat, taking the pencil Wes had let him borrow and twirling it between his fingers, mocking him. Wes couldn't stop himself from staring at it, annoyed. The urge to take it from him increased, but Wes was sure Dr. Ryan would notice. Travis put the eraser in his mouth, and Wes felt his eyes bulge out of his head. His hand clenched into a fist on his desk, his jaw locking. Travis's eyes lit up, and, placing his chin in his hand and turned towards Wes, he pushed the pencil further into his mouth and rolled it slowly.

He looked directly in Wes' eyes as he pulled the pencil out, grinning, the eraser gently pressed against his bottom lip. He slowly swallowed the wooden utensil again, the metal tickling his tongue as he pulled it in and out, slowly. He probably looked like an idiot, and if anyone looked up to see him, he'd probably be embarrassed for the rest of the school year. That didn't matter now because Wes was biting his lip, his hand curled even tighter on the desk and Travis could see his chest rising and falling more significantly than before. Travis was either turning him on, angering him, or maybe even both. Either way, Travis didn't want it to stop.

"Okay, we're all caught up now, right?" Dr. Ryan stopped their game, her eyes shifting around the room to see if anyone else needed more time. When no one said anything, she said, "Okay, everyone, pick up your pencils."

Travis took the pencil out of his mouth with a small 'pop' and smirked at Wes as he leaned forward to continue. Wes' face was completely red and he continued to watch Travis take notes as Dr. Ryan talked for a moment before closing his eyes. For a moment, Travis thought he may have broke the other man's brain when Wes' hand suddenly shot in the air.

"Yes, Wes," Dr. Ryan stopped in her talking, her eyebrow raised.

"May I please use the bathroom?" Wes asked, his voice even and his eyes forward. Dr. Ryan must have known something was wrong because her head tilted slightly before she pointed to the door with a small nod. She went back to the notes quickly, forcing everyone to focus on their papers and not Wes, who practically ran from the room. Travis smirked as he watched him go before turning back to his notes and quickly catching up.

Wes stopped when he made it out of sight of his class. He leaned against the lockers and closed his eyes. He breathed deeply, evenly, over and over until he calmed down enough to know he wasn't about to have a panic attack. Not many people knew he had them, and only one person had actually seen one. Only his father had witnessed him go through one before, and all his father had done was stand up and leave the room, leaving Wes to face his burning chest and lack of air alone. His father had not said anything about it after, figuring it best to just ignore it. He didn't look Wes in the eye for a week after, and it was his lack of words and eye contact that told Wes exactly how his father felt about his attacks. Wes chose to deal with them alone. He knew it was dangerous. He had passed out once, only for a few minutes but he still had. Still, it wasn't enough to change his mind.

When he was well enough to walk straight, he started for the bathroom. His mind raced, trying to figure out why Travis was able to draw such a reaction from him. He usually only had an attack when he had an OCD moment that didn't go as he needed it to go. He was always overwhelmed to the point of tears, but Wes didn't feel like crying. It could have been the germs, he thought. Travis was sticking his pencil in his mouth, after all. He dismissed the idea rather quickly. Wes hadn't been thinking about the germs, but the act itself. It wasn't until Wes got to the restroom did he realize. He was walking past the mirror when something strange caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He stopped and turned slowly, his mind following shortly after. He cursed himself, looking around the room before reaching down and cupping his semi in his hand. Had that been there when he left the classroom?

Wes groaned, walking over to the sinks so he could splash water over his face. He looked himself in the mirror, his face dripping wet. He breathed deeply again; in and out, over and over until he felt okay again. Wes wasn't sure what all of this meant. Not really. Last night, he masterbated thinking of Travis, looking at his picture when Alex's didn't do it for him. And today, seeing Travis suck on his pencil had made him hard, almost drove him into a panic attack in class. The answer was simple, smacking him right in the face. But, it couldn't be, could it? Wes didn't remember ever being attracted to guys before. Not that he ever really looked. He never went looking for girls, either. He tried to think back to what attracted him to Alex. It was her character, he remembered. She was the person he most tolerated in life, and soon, that had developed into whatever it was he felt for her now. He thought it was love. He was planning his life with her. The more he thought about it, though, the more concerned he became. He loved Alex, but was he in love with her?

Wes shook his head, hoping to rid himself of his thoughts. Of course you are. He scolded himself, standing up completely and grabbing a paper towel to dry his face. And you can prove that. Wes drummed his fingers against the sink for a moment before turning around and heading back to class. Someone may notice if he took too long, and Wes didn't want to miss any more notes than he already had. He wasn't sure there was anyone he could get them from, either. Oh, well. He could manage on his own, he was sure. If nothing else, he could ask Alex. Last time, though, she had made a big deal on why he'd left class and that was something he did not wish to go through again.

Focusing back to the task at hand, Wes could remember a restaurant that Alex said she really enjoyed going to. She had only gone once before, with her parents on a family outing when her father was wooing a client. Wes had gone to a number of those himself growing up. He hated them because he always felt awkward and had to keep his mouth shut no matter what. The restaurant Alex liked was expensive and not Wes' scene at all, but he would take her. It was about time they went on an actual date. He had cooked for her a couple of times before, but Alex never really cared much for it. She liked the food he made, even loved it, but wasn't very appreciative of it. She liked to go out more than stay in. This time, Wes was going to give her what she wanted.

When he made it back to class, Dr. Ryan didn't pause in her speaking. She looked at him, a look that obviously asked if he was okay. He ignored her and went back in his seat. He looked at his notes for a moment, lost and completely unsure what to do. He skipped the rest of the page, turned it over and just started writing. Soon, Dr. Ryan finished in her speaking, looking around the room to see how everyone was doing.

"Any questions?" she asked, and when no one said anything, she nodded her head. "Okay, everyone please move your desks back into their original positions. We have approximately five minutes left of class. Feel free to talk amongst yourselves. If anyone needs help, feel free to come and talk to me."

Wes thought about it for a moment, but decided against it. Instead, he leaned back in his seat and tried not to look at Travis, who was staring at him.

"Not sick or anything are you?"

_Not in the way you think._ Wes thought bitterly. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Travis didn't know about his condition so he couldn't be mad at him for nearly setting it off. He had to remind himself of that before answering. "No, I'm fine."

"Good," Travis told him, "I don't want you to miss the day you're going to bring me the book." He smirked, and the two remained in complete silence until the bell rang. Travis stood up first, quick to his feet and stretched. Wes was too busy staring at his stomach to notice that he had dropped something until Travis waved goodbye and left the room. The blond leaned down and picked up the papers there, and realized instantly that they were Travis' notes. The words were written quickly, most in shorthand Wes could barely make out. The writing was messier than his own, but still nicer than your average teenage boy's. There was a small mark on the side of the page, a mix between a smudge and a star. Wes thought nothing of it until he saw the exact same mark on the next page. It marked the notes that Wes had missed, and he wondered, vaguely, if Travis had done it on purpose.

He hurried out the door, holding his breath as he faced the crowds and headed to his second hour. If he had time, he would copy what he needed and give them back to Travis in third hour. If he didn't, Wes wasn't sure what to do. Should he ask to borrow them? Or just keep them until tomorrow when he gave Travis the book? Wes sighed, walking into his second hour and sitting down in his seat. Wes hurried to copy as much of the notes as possible, but only got two bullet points in before the final bell rang and the teacher began the lecture.

Mr. Scrub instantly gave them their homework for the night, and Wes quickly wrote it in his planner. The class opened their books to the instructed page and read multiple poems there, none of which Wes really understood. English was not his strong suit. If he understood something, he could get an A on an essay, no problem. Vocabulary words were easy and anything that had a definition was easily remembered. The problem was usually understanding what the author was conveying. Most of the time Wes could see the small things, the analogies and imagery, but he had problems putting it all together in one big picture.

He made mental notes of certain things, and made connections based off what other students said. He raised his hand to speak once, saying a few quick things before sitting silently in his seat once again. The teacher made a mark by his name, a reference for who got participation points and who didn't. Once the discussion was over, Mr. Scrubs sat at his desk and started to add the points into the computer. He left the students alone, not really bothering to tell them they could talk, but not saying they couldn't either. The students started to whisper to each other, getting up and moving around the room silently. When he didn't say anything after the first two students move, almost everyone moved from their seats and started to talk louder. Wes instantly went to working on his notes. Usually he would start working on the homework but he really wanted to get the notes done so he could return them to Travis. He wasn't even sure Travis had meant to leave them, and Wes honestly didn't want to have an awkward conversation concerning his misconceptions that Travis would allow him to borrow something. Even if the darker man still had Wes' pencil. And was practically sucking the lead out of it.

Wes shuddered, ignoring the hairs standing on the back of his neck as he scribbled furiously. By the time he finished, class was nearly over and his hand was cramped and burning. He packed up his stuff and finished just in time before the bell rang. He felt satisfied with himself, and for once, the feeling of regret didn't follow. He walked to his locker, grabbed his next hour stuff and his lunch, and upon making sure he had Travis' notes, walked to gym class as calmly as possible.

He felt like a schoolgirl, and honestly, the uniform was not helping. He had been so focused on giving Travis the notes back that he hadn't thought about when he would have to do it. They had two completely separate locker rows and Travis' was with the other football players. The only reason he saw Travis separate from them was because Travis had followed him. He couldn't give them at lunch for the same reason and in sixth hour, Alex would be there. Wes could have kept them until the next day, but doing that would only mean he was scared to be in front of the other players. That wasn't true, was it? Wes wasn't sure. He wasn't scared of them, really, but they bothered him. Irritated him to a point of glares and sarcasm and they always made fun of him as he walked away. When Wes made it through the crowds and into the less crowded but somehow louder locker room, he still wasn't sure what to do. He was about to pass the football aisle when he paused, completely freezing upon seeing Travis out of the corner of his eye. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, still unsure, mind racing. Clyde noticed him first, tapping Travis on the shoulder and pointing in his direction. How he knew Wes was there for Travis Wes didn't know and did not care to. Travis was completely changed, except he wasn't wearing his shirt correctly. It was shoved over his head, but his arms weren't in the sleeves and it covered nothing but his neck.

Wes cleared his throat when Travis looked at him, trying not to look directly into the too blue eyes. "Thank you," he said, handing him the notes. He took the risk that Travis had left them purposely for him, maybe because he felt too awkward otherwise, or maybe because he was secretly hoping Travis had. He chose to ignore both options as Travis took the papers from his hand. Travis nodded a little, smiling.

"No problem."

Wes nodded once more, and then at the boys behind him in some sort of acknowledgement. Peter waved and Clyde merely gave him a raised eyebrow. Wes stood there for another second before moving to his locker and quickly changing. Wes hated himself for being so awkward and weird and just... different. He tried to fit in better but it was all so unlike him that it never lasted long. He'd given up long ago. Wes thought about waiting until they left before leaving behind them, but he was sure they'd be late. He picked himself up and walked past them and out the door. None of them looked at him, and for that alone he was grateful.

He waited on the bleachers with his 'friends' with the rest of the class while the teacher talked about the day before. He congratulated the students and told them how their scores had been higher than the girls', which earned a cheer from most of the class. Wes rolled his eyes. "Alright," Mr. Caster said, settling them down, "That's enough about that. Today, we play basketball. Your teams have been randomly picked and are posted on the board over there on that wall. It's a half court game, four teams. Teams one and two are on this side," he pointed to his left, "and teams three and four are on this side," he pointed to his right. "Get going."

Wes and Travis were on separate teams playing against each other. Wes felt his heart speed up at seeing that, and could feel Travis' grin. He turned around to face him and the two just stared at each other for a moment before getting on the court to their respective teams. Wes had Peter on his, and Travis had Clyde. The others were random players neither cared much about.

"Remember to watch me, baby," Travis told him, getting too close for comfort before backing off.

Wes felt something he couldn't put his finger on, a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach that moved through his entire body. Wes thought it might be happiness, but quickly brushed it off, unable to hide the small smile that forced it's way onto his face. "Game on."

…

Travis wasn't sure what was wrong with him. Honestly, he had no idea. His mind always flipped on him at the last minute and once again, Travis found himself unable to stop himself. It wasn't that he didn't think before he acted; he did. What he thought just wasn't always the best thing. He knew it wasn't right, or fair, or even safe, but that stuff had never stopped him from doing it. It had gotten him into trouble more often than not, his two stints in juvy being evidence of that. Travis wasn't concerned about it enough to try to stop it, though. He wasn't proud of his past, but he wasn't really ashamed, either.

Still, he couldn't help but feel a little bad. Travis had never so much as kissed someone who was with someone else. Sure, he flirted, but that was where it ended. If the person showed interest in doing anything more than flirting, Travis pulled back as quickly as possible. He liked to have fun, but he wasn't going to have fun with someone who belonged to someone else. Travis had seen the way his fourth foster mom had cried when she find out her husband was cheating. Travis had thrown a baseball bat at his foster father for suggesting they go to a game later that day. He considered it to be one of his greatest accomplishments.

He had asked around about Wes before class started. When he woke up that morning, he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. He had thirty minutes before he actually had to get up; forty-five minutes if he didn't care about being on time. Next to his alarm clock was the pencil Wes had given him and before he knew it, he was up, dressed, and on his way to school. Money and Wheels said nothing to him as he walked past, grabbing an apple from the counter and walking down the door with his backpack and keys. He didn't want to hear it and they didn't want to say it.

Asking about Wes was more of a challenge than he thought it was. He asked Peter and Clyde again, both boys raising an eyebrow. Travis just smiled, hoping it would charm them into answering without questioning why he wanted to know. Clyde started spewing rumor after rumor he had heard about Wes, no doubt from Rozelle, who was known as the Queen of Rumors. Peter shook his head at some things, but nodded at others and Travis was able to draw conclusions from that and his interactions with Wes. Travis asked everyone he talked to that morning, most of them oblivious to the oddness of the question. By the time he had to start heading to class, Travis felt like he hadn't learned much about Wes, but everything anyone knew about him at the same time. Travis wasn't surprised he kept to himself. The most important thing he learned was that Wes and Alex had been dating for over a year and Travis was determined not to ruin that. He liked Wes and if he was single and able to keep a secret, Travis would have been all over him. But he wasn't and that was the end of it.

Only, it wasn't. Wes looked cute when he read. His tongue stuck out at the corner of his mouth when he concentrated, his eyes narrowed and focused. Travis had just stared at him for a moment before he realized what book he was reading. He mentioned it to Wes because, they couldn't be lovers, but maybe they could still be friends. If he teased him, it really wasn't his fault. It was Wes' for being so anal and cute. And then, Travis' mind did an infamous flip flop. He started to twirl the pencil in his hand, hoping to get the blond's attention. He did, and when he was sure Wes was watching, he stuck the pencil in his mouth. He felt like a fool for doing it. It was awkward and just weird in a way that didn't really make sense, but Wes' hand had curled and his eyes had narrowed and it made Travis' blood spike. There was something about Wes and something about making him feel that way that made Travis feel like he had won something. He wished he could claim his prize.

When Wes left the room, Travis wasn't entirely sure why. At first he thought Wes just had to use the bathroom, but there was something about the way Wes was walking that told Travis different. It wasn't until he pieced it all together that Travis figured it out. He could see the slight outline in Wes' pants, and the closest thing to a panicked look Wes could have, Travis surmised. Travis was a hundred percent sure that Wes had no idea what was going on with his body. He had a girlfriend, and had probably never thought much about guys before. It didn't help that Travis was sure Wes had never gone all the way before. It was almost too easy.

Of course, Travis still felt kinda bad for what he was doing. Not enough to actually stop, apparently. He shrugged mentally, making sure to mark what notes Wes missed. It was his fault, after all, and he was sure Wes would freak being as anal as he was. The only thing he'd have to figure out is leaving them without leaving them. He didn't want to have that awkward moment, especially with Dr. Ryan watching. Travis had seen the way she had stared at them yesterday, but wasn't sure why. He felt like she was analyzing them, and he wasn't sure he liked that.

So when the bell rang, Travis sat up quickly and stretched, hoping to distract Wes long enough to drop the papers and get out of the room. It must have worked because when Wes finally walked out of the classroom, Travis could see him putting the papers away. Smiling to himself, Travis went off to his second class, pleased.

Mr. Holter once again waved Travis off when he saw how he was dressed. Travis grinned, and Mr. Holter ignored him as best he could. He waved him to his seat and began to pass out the papers for that day. By now, Travis was already aware of what teachers would let him get away with the dress code violation, and which ones wouldn't. He had always been a good judge of it, and if the teachers were gonna let him get away with it, he was gonna do it.

Second hour passed slowly, Travis' mind filled with Wes. He hoped Wes had actually seen his dropped notes or else he might lose them. He was sure Dr. Ryan would save them but he wanted to make a good impression on her. If nothing happened with Wes, he had Dr. Ryan to fall back on. Yeah, right, he thought with a small laugh. He wasn't too sure what Wes would think about the notes but that didn't matter much in the end. When the hour was finally coming to an end, Travis made the decision to stop again. It's not fair, he reminded himself, and then wondered when he started caring about anyone other than himself and his foster siblings.

He was the first of his friends to get to the locker rooms, and hurried to change. After the near incident that had occurred the day before, Travis thought it best to keep himself covered. Not that he didn't have fun with Wes. It was all just too close for comfort in front of the others. Travis was pulling his shorts up when Clyde and Peter came in and was just pulling over his shirt when Clyde tapped him on the shoulder. He pointed and Travis knew what it was about before he turned around. Travis had to hand it to Wes. He had guts.

When Wes left, Clyde started poking fun. At Wes or himself, Travis wasn't at all sure. Peter stayed silent, shrugging. Travis knew how Peter felt about Dakota, and how Dakota felt about Wes, so he wasn't at all surprised. Clyde, for whatever reason, didn't seem to like him too much and was glad that they were playing opposite him. When Wes scored, moving past Clyde and making a damn good shot, Travis actually laughed, clapping as he screamed, "Way to go, baby!" loud enough for everyone to hear. And when Wes laughed a little too, Travis decided for whatever reason, even with all his anal tendencies and bickering, he liked Wes.


	6. Chapter 6

Okay, so, obviously it has been a really long time. I am really, really sorry. I've been busy and so has my amazing beta Maryjane and we promise we got this to you as quickly as possible and we're gonna do better :)

If you are wondering about the multiple titles...Well, I couldn't come up with one and so Maryjane gave me some options and I could not for the life of me pick one. They're all so amazing! And as you will see, all pertain to the chapter ;D

Tell me what you thought at the end! Once I finish posting, I'm gonna start on chapter seven. I'm super excited for what's to come and I hope ya'll are too. ;D

With Love,

Kitty!

* * *

**Hit My Pencil Hard**

**(aka I Wanna Hold Your Hand)**

**(aka Positive Ions Playbook)**

* * *

Ms Baxter began to hand out the papers for the day, while a number of her students passed back papers from the previous week. It was only the third week of school and Travis had more papers back from law than he did all his other classes combined. Each paper was graded carefully, based on right and wrong and not on credit. Travis was certain the woman had no life. Frowning, he looked through each paper, keeping track of each score and mentally determining what his overall grade was. The only way to check was online, and Travis always forgot by the time he got home. He probably had a B+, maybe an A- if he had done well on the test from the day before. His grade probably would have been better if Sarah Burn hadn't been flirting with Wes while doing the Constitution packet last week. He'd nearly failed it because he spent the entire hour wanting to punch her in the face. He had been paired with Jerry Stein, who, Travis remembered, was not currently speaking to him. He was pretty pissed about having to do most of the work and still only getting a D. He still doesn't know what Travis was staring at the whole time. He thought he was mad that Wes got to be partners with the raven beauty, and he let him think that.

In the three weeks since school began, Travis had been paired up with everyone in the class at least once. Travis didn't mind, even when he was paired with someone he didn't like. He was always rather anxious about who Wes would be partners with, and he always seemed to get a different reaction out of each one. Most of the kids, both boy and girl, just used Wes for all the answers, deciding it was a better idea to text or talk to their friends close by than to help. For some reason, that really bothered Travis. He wasn't a fan of work himself, and he certainly wasn't a fan of doing all of the work. Wes didn't seem to care, just wanting to get it done so he didn't have to talk to them anymore. Travis didn't like that he was being taken advantage of. Then there were guys like Bruce Jets, who made fun of Wes the entire time. Travis made sure to 'accidentally' trip him as he made his way up to the front of the room. And then, there were the girls like Sarah, who just flirted with Wes in order to get him to do all their work. Wes didn't seem to fall for it, but Travis still couldn't help but be angry about it anyway.

"Now," Ms Baxter said, pulling the class's attention towards her, "I'm going to pair you guys up, but this time I'm giving you guys your permanent partners." Everyone was instantly on the edge of their seats, all nervous and excited to see who it would be, "I've seen you all work with just about everyone, if not all of you and I have paired you guys up in a way that I think will be...worthwhile." She lifted the list and taped it to the board, motioning for the students to come up and see. "You will work with this partner and no one else."

All but Wes stood up. Travis was the first one to make it to the list. He didn't look for his name. Instead he looked for Wes. He wasn't sure he'd be able to handle another day of watching him with someone who used him, and he needed to know who Wes was gonna be stuck with. When he found his name, he followed the dotted line to the other side of the page, a wicked grin crossing his face as he saw who the blond was partnered up with. He walked back to his desk and lined it up with Wes', still grinning. "Looks like you're stuck with me, baby."

Wes didn't look happy. But he didn't look mad or upset. Not even surprised. Travis took that as a good sign and the two instantly went to work, taking turns answering the questions and pissing each other off. Both were aware that others were staring. It was almost normal when the two were together. For whatever reason, people seemed interested in what they were saying to each other. They ignored it, both refusing to admit that there was anything to listen to and kept their eyes on each other – or the floor – whichever proved more effective at the time.

They were almost done with the sheet when Ms Baxter stood from her desk. "Alright class," she started, "the hour is almost over so I'm going to pass out your homework. It's due in three days and you have to look up references in the library, and you must work with your partner."

Wes nearly growled and Travis had to force himself not to feel offended by it. He liked to think he understood how Wes felt. He was a loner and working with Travis wasn't easy. But hey, working with the Ice King wasn't that easy either. Most people assumed he didn't do his homework. He wasn't sure why, or how, but his demeanor must have portrayed something that made others think so. For a long time, Travis skirted by in school, mostly in Jr High and some of ninth grade, but then he realized that school was important. That his future was important. He wanted better than he had now and if that meant going to school, taking down notes, and actually doing his homework, he'd do it.

He wasn't about to tell Wes that, though, so instead he just tapped his fingers against the desk, looking bored and probably not improving Wes' opinion of him at all. But wasn't that what Travis wanted? To push him away? A little voice in the back of his mind told him that no, that was the last thing he wanted, but he squashed it down until it was smaller than a pea and kept tapping his fingers. When Ms Baxter was out of earshot, Travis leaned over and said, "Listen, if you want I can copy half the questions and put them together later."

Wes thought for a second and shook his head no. "How will I know if you actually do it?"

Travis once again ignored the feeling in the pit of his stomach. "I guess you'll just have to trust me."

"No," Wes shook his head, a certain look in his eyes Travis couldn't make out, "we can do it together. It's no big deal."

"Right. No big deal." Travis said back. "So...after school?"

"Don't you have football practice?"

Travis only shrugged. "I can't play if I don't keep my grades up. How can the coach be mad if I'm doing something that will allow me to play?"

It was Wes' turn to shrug, "Library. After school. Don't be late."

"Wouldn't dream of it, baby." Travis said back and enjoyed watching Wes' ears turn red.

...

"Travis I swear to God I will murder you in your sleep if you do not focus." Wes gritted out through clenched teeth. Wes was usually courteous to people, or at the very least civil, most of the time. It was true that people pissed him off more often than not – honestly, when did common sense become so uncommon? – but he tried to be nice. His version of nice was just full of glares and sarcastic comments that most people like Bruce couldn't actually comprehend. Showing the meatheads up in intelligence at least made him feel a little better in the end. Travis probably pissed him off more than anyone else on God's Green Earth and for whatever reason, whether it be that he didn't care or that he couldn't control himself, he always said to him the things he wished he could say to others. And Travis, for reasons Wes would probably never understand, only smiled, pushing his buttons further until Wes gave in or it wasn't fun anymore. Wes hated to admit it, but he liked not having to filter himself around the older teen.

"I'm trying," Travis whined, practically throwing himself down on the library table, "I'm just so hungry that I can't."

Wes rolled his eyes, but to Travis' defence, the blond really could hear Travis' stomach growling. "You should have eaten lunch." At this, Travis straightened a little and shrugged, avoiding Wes' eyes. The younger eyed him carefully before shrugging, standing up from his spot and stretching. "Read this while I'm gone."

"Where are you going?" Travis asked, his tone accusative.

"To get us something to eat," Wes spat back before walking away and out of Travis' sight. Travis grumbled to himself as he settled in to read the first page. Outside, he could hear the football team practicing, a pause in yelling, and a series of somewhat familiar laughs. He snuck a glance out the large window, only coming to when Wes kicked his chair – and his attention – towards him. He set down two small bags of chips, one regular and the other barbecue. Travis opened both, taking a chip of each and shoving it in his mouth. Wes took a regular and slowly chewed, reading the page he was sure Travis had not. "You can go join them if you want."

At hearing Wes' voice, Travis jerked towards him once again. It took a moment for him to realize he had been staring out the window again. "Sorry," he mumbled, munching on another chip.

"It's okay," Wes said, his voice low and showered with an emotion Travis couldn't pin, "I know you'd rather be out there."

Travis thought about it for a moment. He would much rather be playing football than doing homework, but he was having fun spending time with Wes and just being close to him. It was guilt free because, hey, Travis didn't pick Wes to be his partner. "I wanna help."

"It's all right," Wes said, and Travis felt his heart drop at the sound of his voice. It was flat and more than a little cold; practiced, even, like Wes had done it over and over. "I can finish it, or we can do it tomorrow..."

"Tomorrow, then," the other reassured, "I wanna help." Wes nodded, packing up his things. Travis couldn't shake the thought that he had done something wrong. "Hey...wanna come?" He couldn't stop himself from asking. It had turned into a little fantasy. An odd one at that. Travis had never had a fantasy that didn't involve sex but he just couldn't help himself. The thought of Wes coming to practice or his game, sitting next to his teammates' girlfriends wearing his jacket and cheering him on in a silent Wes sort of way. It wasn't just hot...it was nice. It made him feel warm inside, and not the normal sort of warm he felt.

"Come where?"

"To practice," Travis tried to make it sound casual, but it ended up sounding anything but, "You know...to watch." _Me._

"Thanks," Wes said, unsure of what else to, "but, uh, no thanks. I gotta get home."

"Break my pencil and I'll let you go home."

"What?"

"Hold your pencil like this," Travis instructed, turning his pencil horizontal in his hand. Wes hesitated for a moment, but decided to humor him and did as he was told. Travis pulled his pencil back and let it lightly smack in the center of Wes'. "Just harder. Hit my pencil with yours and if mine breaks first I'll let you go home, but if I break yours first, you have to come."

"Travis, that's stupid –,"

"Come on, baby. Please?" Travis dug out his pencil from his bag, setting the one Wes had given him off to the side. If the blond noticed, he didn't say anything. Travis held out his pencil, allowing Wes to go first. Sighing, Wes took his pencil and hit Travis'. They switched and Travis took his shot. It continued back and forth for only a couple moments before Travis realized Wes may actually win. He frowned, but then suddenly smiled. Wes was about to ask him what was going on when Travis suddenly plucked his pencil from his hands and snapped it in two. "I win."

"That's cheating!"

"Oh, well," Travis shrugged, standing up and putting his backpack on his back. "I still win."

"You do not," Wes defended, "and I'm not going to the practice."

"You think so, huh?" And before Wes could ask, Travis grabbed Wes' backpack and ran.

There was a second of disbelief, then anger, and then something Wes refused to acknowledge. "Travis!" He ran after him, moving faster as Travis started laughing maniacally. It was well after school now, and only teachers were still there. A few saw them, but neither noticed as Travis ran from one side of the school to the other and took the shortcut through the new wing back towards the library and out the side door to the field. He turned around just in time for Wes to tackle him down to the ground. It wasn't romantic and if it wasn't for the two backpacks on his back it probably would have hurt, but Wes was pressed against him again and honestly, Travis thought that was all that mattered.

"I cannot believe you," Wes said, not instantly moving off him, "Actually, no, I can."

"At least I make your life interesting," Travis grinned, his hands moving up to Wes' waist. The blond shifted, but didn't move. Travis did a really embarrassing happy dance in his head. "So, you gonna watch or not?" Wes opened his mouth to answer when someone started laughing just a few feet away.

"Marks!"

"Travis?"

Both turned, faces red as they saw the football team and the coach standing around looking at them. The players stared in disbelief. The coach just looked angry. They separated quickly and Wes awkwardly took his bag back from Travis. The quarterback wasn't sure how he forgot that this would happen, but he was just so intent on making it up to Wes that he hadn't thought about it. He wanted to apologize but he knew Wes wouldn't want to hear it, especially with the others there.

"I really do have to get home. Bye," Wes said, and then he quickly turned around and went back inside. Travis tried to gauge how the blond was feeling, but Wes seemed to be good at covering his emotions. He must have been embarrassed, and probably a little more than upset. Maybe even confused. Though, maybe Travis only thought this because that's what he was feeling. The team was staring at him, and he could feel their eyes burning holes into his back all silently demanding an explanation that they didn't deserve.

"Sorry, Mr. Breeze," Travis said without turning around. He couldn't see Wes anymore, but still refused to turn around. "I was doing homework with my partner."

Mr. Breeze made him run twenty laps in his jeans. The pain wasn't enough to stop him from thinking of Wes.

...

"Did you hear that Travis kid's been arrested?"

At hearing this, Wes turned around and looked at the kid behind him, a smaller pimple faced kid who probably had nothing better to do with his life. He was talking to the girl next to him, who looked interested. Neither noticed him staring. The girl actually looked pleased at hearing it, though Wes couldn't figure out why. It wasn't until she sighed contently and said, "He's such a bad boy...I'd love to get him alone," that Wes turned back around with a roll of his eyes, silently wondering if they were talking about his Travis. Wes paused in thought, realized he'd thought of Travis as his, and then mentally shook himself.

He turned back to his paper in front of him, but his mind stayed focused on Travis. Wes knew of at least four different people named Travis at this school, and it was a pretty common name, so there was probably a couple more. Wes tried to tell himself that they weren't talking about his partner, but he knew deep down that they were. Travis was the only new kid, and there was no way people were just hearing about this now if it was about any of the other ones. Wes tried to shrug it off. It wasn't like the kids here didn't get in trouble. He could name off a dozen kids who had been arrested for drugs or indecent exposure. Wes told himself it was no big deal. But it was. Wes hadn't known; Travis hadn't told him. He wasn't required to, but Wes still felt a little hurt by it.

"Yeah, I hear he stole one of his foster fathers' cars and he's been caught drag racing a couple of times." the kid continued, and Wes fought the urge to punch him in his face. Even if it was all true, he had no right speaking about Travis that way. Wes knew what it was like to be on that side of gossip, and it wasn't fair, especially when the person couldn't defend themselves. Anger struck Wes at that moment. "He spent some time in juvie, but got out–,"

"Shut the hell up," the blonde growled, turning sharply in his seat and glaring daggers at the two. They stiffened immediately, their eyes wide. A second later they looked up, both looking down fearfully. Wes knew what was about to happen before it actually did.

"Mr. Mitchell! I'm shocked! Is there something you wish to share with the class?" Ms Gilligan was staring at him expectantly, but Wes wasn't about to say anything. "Mr. Mitchell, if you do not tell me what is wrong, I cannot help you, and I will be forced to send you to detention."

Wes was silent.

"Detention it is," she said sadly, "right after school." Wes only nodded in response.

The rest of the class went on in silence.

When the bell finally rang, Wes was ready and went straight out the door to head to his sixth hour class. People were staring at him and he hated that. They whispered and Wes told himself it wasn't because of Travis but he couldn't stop himself from thinking that it was. _They're called intrusive thoughts, you know that. Stop._ They didn't, he couldn't. Travis was getting under his skin and maybe everyone else was starting to notice. Alex was generally shocked by him asking her out on the date. They'd gone out before, usually once a month. Alex had said it was because of Travis. He was spending so much time with him. Wes blew it off, but maybe he shouldn't have. Maybe everyone knew how he felt, that late at night he... Wes growled, stopping in his tracks so abruptly the person walking behind bumped into him.

"What is your problem?" Wes recognized the growl instantly, and initiated one of his own. "Wes, do you hear me?"

"What the hell do you want Travis?"

"For you to watch where the hell you're going!"

"_You_ ran into _me!_"

"Because you fucking stopped in the middle of the fucking hallway!"

"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh..."

Wes wanted to apologize the moment he said it, but Travis lunged at him, and the next thing they knew they were both on the floor, rolling around and fighting each other. Wes didn't know why. He wasn't mad at Travis, but he was just so infuriating sometimes. They had a crowd in no time; people stopped and watched them when they fought verbally, so neither one was surprised they stopped to watch them fight physically. A minute rolled on, and Wes threw a punch, but Travis grabbed his wrist and pinned it above his head. His knuckles cracked against the tile and for a moment, they just stared at each other, Travis on top of Wes and both breathing heavily.

"Teacher's coming!"

They split apart after that, both pulling themselves off the floor but never taking their eyes off each other. Finally, they yanked themselves away and disappeared into the crowd of the hallway, both aware they could get caught at any second. They stayed close together as they ran but when they entered the classroom, they both wished the teacher had caught them. "Nice of you to show up," Ms Percy spat at them, pointing harshly for them to sit down. "I know no one taught you, Mr. Marks, but I expect that your parents taught you to come on time, Mr. Mitchell." Both stood there for a moment, furious, but moved past her to their seats. Neither payed attention or took any notes. Travis stared at the back of Wes' head and Wes fought the urge to turn around and face him. The hour passed slowly. Ms Percy picked on them half the time and the other half forgot they even existed.

Ms Percy made time for one last joke before the bell rang. She smiled to herself as she walked back to her desk and started to grade papers from one of her other classes. Travis took off the moment it did, refusing to look at her. Wes felt his chest ache, a mix between sympathy and anger. He stood up and quickly made his way out, Alex close behind him.

"What were you thinking?" Alex snapped at him the moment they were out of the room. No one stopped to watch them, and Wes almost missed the attention. He watched Travis walk away and started walking after him. He had no idea what he'd say or do or even why he was following him, but he was. Alex yelled after him but he didn't care. A few of the teachers eyed him and he brushed it off. Almost none of the students there got in trouble for fighting. Most parents would throw fits bigger than toddlers if the principle even tried and Sutton was all about fixing things more spiritually anyway. He was more likely to stick the troublemakers in a room together with gentle music and incense while making them chant 'I am a positive ion in the universe' over and over. Teachers had long since given up on trying to get the students in trouble.

"Wes," Alex called, pulling on his shoulder. She looked flustered, her face red. She looked so confused and Wes actually stopped, feeling bad. He wanted to explain to her, but he didn't know how. He barely understood it all himself. He was perfectly okay – or as okay as he gets – when someone talking about Travis made him angry enough to get detention. And then he fights with Travis in the hallway. "At least tell me this," she smiled, all seemingly forgiven, "when are you picking me up tonight?"

Crap. Wes had completely forgotten about their date. "Seven?" he said, it sounding more like a question than anything else. Alex seemed happy with the answer and walked off, her butt swaying a little more than Wes remembered. The blond turned, sighing. He had detention to get to.

Wes had never been to the room before. He'd never been in trouble, besides the temper tantrum he threw in fourth grade when he couldn't figure out why Sally Watson's pencil just had to be facing a certain way. The doctor had told his parents it wasn't his fault, but his father still didn't look at him for three days. Wes rushed to get there, his mind and fingers buzzing to still get there on time. He did, if only by two seconds and instantly stopped upon seeing the other occupants in the room. There was only three – two girls chatting with each other and, of course, Travis.

The universe hated him.

He decided this.

Nearly growling, he sat down as far away from Travis as he possibly could. Ms Hale was conducting detention today, and did not look happy about it. Two minutes in, Principal Sutton knocked on the door and asked to take the boys out. They held back together in the hall as he walked on, talking, oblivious to them ignoring his chatter.

"Fuck! There goes my scholarship."

"You'd think so..."

"Wes, we're both about to be suspended, and I'm sure you've never been in trouble before. How are you so calm?"

"You'll see," Wes said, frowning, "It's worse than being expelled."

"What could be worse than that?"

Wes was about to explain, or tell him to shut his face – he hadn't decided – when Sutton stopped them at the end of the hallway. "In you go, boys," he said, and the boys did as they were told. Travis looked back at him, confused, while Wes tried to convince him this wasn't necessary. "You were fighting in my halls, you know what that means."

"But–"

"We're sorry–"

"Hold hands, you two."

"Huh?"

Wes sighed. Travis just looked confused.

"You heard me. Hold hands."

The two stared at each other for a long moment before slowly reaching out and holding both each others hands. Travis' hands were calloused, but still nice, Wes decided. Wes had soft and warm hands, a little sweaty, but Travis thought Wes may be as nervous as he was. This was so not cool. Yet so...awesome.

"Now, repeat after me: I am a positive ion in the universe."

Wes did, but it took Travis a second to catch on.

"Now, I'm gonna sit here and you're gonna repeat that over and over until you believe."

The universe was evil.


	7. Chapter 7

Hello everyone!

Yes! Another update! I know, right? It's amazing, I'm actually still trying to figure it out myself...Lol. Anywho, as always, I wish to thank my beta Maryjane for editing this for me. I kind of just send it to her and go, "so...yeah, guess what I just sent you?!" and she always finds time to do it! And as always, she is amazing and has made my chapter pretty and readable. Without her...I don't wanna think about that actually...Oh, also! I have started chapter eight and I have three days of work...Just saying.

After, feel free to tell me what you thought. I'd love to hear your opinion, good or bad.

Oh! Also, someone asked me when the romance was going to start...soon, my lovelies. I promise ;D

With Love,

Kitty!

* * *

**Can't Think of No One But You**

* * *

Syndy Bass was probably one of the hottest girls at Oakland. She had long, wavy blonde hair and deep blue eyes that Travis had noticed the very first moment he saw her. She stood at 5'3" and always had her skirt raised a little higher than it was supposed to be. She wasn't the smartest person around. She couldn't even understand most of Travis' simple jokes and she flirted with too many people for it to be appropriate, even at her age. She was willing to take it past flirting with only a select few people, and Travis just happened to be one of them.

At first Travis had been less than interested. He was too busy, what with school, football, the small but still demanding car jobs for his brother, and of course, the never ending circle he was running around with Wes. But, practice had been canceled and amazingly he didn't have any homework or anything he had to do at home. He had just spent the last hour holding Wes' hand, trying hard not pull the other kid flush against him again, so he was in some serious need of physical contact.

Ignoring the feeling in the pit of his stomach, he dug through the papers he'd shoved in the back of his locker and found Syndy's number. He pulled up a text message and leaned against the locker next to his as he thought about what to say. Hey baby, he started, but deleted it right after. Hey cutie. It's Travis. Wanna hook up? He told himself that it wasn't about Wes, that he wasn't doing this just because the blond had managed to turn him on again and sent the message as if it was proof.

It wasn't.

He got a reply almost immediately and felt his heart sink and his stomach flutter at the same time. The opposite emotions made him feel sick but there was no taking it back now**. **_;) Sure! Met me at the football feild in 20? _

Travis sent back a simple reply, saying he'd be there and Syndy sent him another winky face. He sighed and rolled his eyes as he shoved his phone into his pocket. He had twenty minutes to kill and wasn't sure what to do with it. His stomach growled uncomfortably. He dug in his back pocket for a dollar and went towards the vending machines in the gym area.

He stopped as he reached the end of the hallway. He could see Wes at the vending machine, looking grumpy as always and practically punching the buttons on the poor machine with his knuckles. Travis thought about turning back around but pushed forward until he was standing next to Wes, who was eating Veggie Chips. Travis chose a Snickers for himself.

"What are you still doing here?" Wes asked, his voice low.

Travis thought that he could have asked Wes the same. "I'm meeting a date here," he said instead, not even bothering to hide his smirk.

Wes stared at him for a moment before giving a small shrug and saying, "That's funny. I have a date at seven myself."

Travis' smirk faded but Wes didn't smirk like he thought he would. There was this certain look on Wes' face. Travis had gotten into the blond's head not long after meeting him. He was usually good at reading the looks and understanding what Wes was thinking. Wes was getting good at it too and Travis wondered if he knew this was all about him. That it always had been.

"Who are you meeting?" Wes asked suddenly. Travis knew he had to know and it had his smirk returning.

"Syndy Bass."

Wes' eyes widened. Of course he knew who she was. Travis had heard rumors that Wes had insulted Syndy and she never spoke to him again. Syndy had confirmed the rumors and Travis had nearly laughed when she said that all she was trying to do was sleep with him. He thought of mentioning this, but the look on Wes' face stopped him.

"Well have fun, I guess." It was strange. Neither had apologized about their little fight but somehow they pushed it out of their minds. It lingered in the back but they didn't say anything. Just stared at each other for a second, seeing which one would cave first before turning their separate ways and walking back towards their lockers.

Travis wasn't feeling as smug as he thought he would when he walked away. He wanted to rub it in Wes' face that he still got girls—hot girls at that. But Wes' interest was short-lived and, with a shrug and tone that drove Travis crazy, told him he had a date with Alex.

Travis sometimes forgot Alex existed. Sometimes late at night, or during class when the two were fighting or joking or even beating the crap out of one another, they clicked. They worked well together, always managing to get their work done even while screaming at each other. In those moments, Travis could believe that Wes was his. He was, in a way. A partner and a friend. The best friend Travis had ever had. It was just his luck he wanted him to be more.

Travis wasn't too sure what any of it meant. All he knew was that it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to him because for the first time, he had feelings for someone outside of his family, someone he considered his best friend and who was in a committed relationship with someone else. It was unfair to Wes because Travis was sure Wes had less of a clue than he did when it came to all of this. And it wasn't fair to Alex because Travis could tell how much she cared about him and he knew that things between them had been a little rocky for a while. The poor girl was stuck in the middle and even though Travis didn't want her to get hurt, he wasn't sure he could stayaway from Wes like he originally planned.

Travis almost laughed at that. His plan lasted less than twelve hours and he was back in Wes' personal space. Wes was in his as well so he tried not to feel too guilty about it. Even when they weren't partners and didn't really need to be around each other, they still managed to do so. It was like some strange gravitational pull that kept bringing them together. They would go to one another for things they could easily get from someone else. They would sit by each other, close enough to overhear conversations but far enough away that it wouldn't be considered creepy. They argued a lot and bantered back and forth. Most of their classmates expected it. Some were more than a little annoyed. Bored, Travis checked Facebook from his phone and updated his status. Maybe Wes would catch on, maybe not, but doing it made him feel better, if only for a just second.

Travis was lost in his thoughts when his phone went off. Syndy wanted to know where he was, and Travis almost turned off his phone and walked in the opposite direction. He thought about Wes getting ready for his date with Alex and how perfect their relationship was and how happy their lives were going to be together. It made his heart sink and his blood boil. Mostly it just made him sad. He could never give Wes anything as stable. Even if he committed to him forever, it wouldn't be easy. He was almost as difficult to deal with as Wes. He had to give Alex major props for it.

_Inside. be right out_. He sent it quickly, so as not to stop himself. He saw her sitting impatiently on the bleachers. When she finally saw him, she waved and started walking towards him. She was wearing a red dress, low cut and just past her butt. It looked like she should be going clubbing, but the small stain Travis noticed by her right arm told him it was normal attire.

A month ago he would be all over her, but now he found himself holding back. She was smiling at him, eyes questioning. "Come on," he told her, "we can take my bike back to my place. No one will be there."

"I don't think so," she said, her smile turning into a smirk, causing Travis to raise an eyebrow. "I want to do it right here."

Travis' eyes widened, "On the field?"

She hummed, her finger hooking into the front of his shirt. "So when you're on the field, you'll think of me."

Travis was all for finding interesting places to have sex but the football field was pushing it. Especially since it was still light out and Travis couldn't watch all the doors and windows at the same time. He also wasn't looking forward to going to jail for having sex on school grounds in the open.

"Come on, Travis, I thought you were like the big bad wolf."

He breathed in his mouth and out the nose at that. Yes, he had a record. And now thanks to that douchebag Morgan, everyone knew about it. But no one really knew or understood.

She kissed him then, hard and rough with all teeth. He was taken aback for a second before kissing her back. She lowered herself on the grass and pulled Travis with her. She pushed his jacket off his shoulders and pulled his shirt up to touch the skin underneath. He grabbed onto her breast and ignored the feeling that something was wrong. He pressed his other hand in her hair. _It's too long,_ he thought, as he pressed a kiss to her neck. He looked into her eyes, half lidded and hazy._ Too bright,_ he thought and that was the final straw.

He pulled himself up from her, sitting on his knees as he wiped his hand over his face. This was not good and he knew it. Travis has had little crushes on people before. He'd even really liked a few girls, including his ex, Randi. But even after he and Randi broke up, he didn't have a problem hooking up with a pretty redhead the next day. He had liked her, but he hadn't liked her that much.

This should not have been a problem.

But it was.

"What's wrong, baby?"

And that was it for Travis. "I just remembered I have to help my brother with something. Maybe we can continue this another time." They wouldn't, but he didn't need her to start screaming.

"I thought you were an orphan," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Foster brother," he told her, wanting her to just shut her mouth.

"Whatever," she said, taking her phone out and walking away. "Must be gay," she mumbled, further away but still close enough for Travis to hear.

"Something like that," he said to himself before turning in the other direction and heading back to his bike.

...

As Wes walked away, he wanted to turn back and apologize. What he had said was low, but his pride stopped him. And maybe, if he was being honest with himself, a little bit of hatred as well. He wanted Travis to suffer for making him feel the way he did. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

The whole date—if one could call it that—wasn't helping. He knew who Syndy was and what game she played. For a small time, he was on her list of people with whom she was willing to go beyond flirting. He had insulted her somehow and was forever banned from any and all communication. He actually felt a little disgusted that Travis would willingly be messed with like that, and maybe a little jealous as well. He had tried to play it off though, and to his surprise, Travis let him.

Wes grabbed the things he needed from his locker and practically slammed the door shut. He felt so guilty. Guilty that he had said what he had and still hadn't apologized. Guilty that he didn't want to go out with Alex. Guilty that he'd rather be spending time with Travis than his own girlfriend. He tried to push it away but it settled low in his stomach, weighing him down.

With a sigh, Wes walked down the hall and out of the school. It was a chilly day and Wes wished he'd worn more than just his cardigan today. Hurrying to his car, he refused to glance at Travis' bike which the man had parked next to his car (the bastard) and quickly got in. It was almost four and Wes would have to hurry to get ready.

He took his normal route home and left a note for his parents before jumping in the shower. He hadn't bothered mentioning the date to them. His mother would want to take pictures and his father always went on about law school and kids when Alex's name was brought up.

He sat down at his desk, hair dripping wet and his towel wrapped as tight as possible on his waist. Glancing at the clock, he realized he had more time than he'd thought he'd have, and feeling a moment of laziness, practically plopped down in his computer chair. He powered it up, tapping his fingers impatiently until it asked for his password. It only took another moment for it to apply his settings. Wes was then at a loss for what to do. Normally, his homework was the first thing on his list, but he didn't have any today. He played a game of solitaire and then got bored and checked his facebook.

He resisted the urge to go straight to Travis' profile and decided just to scroll down the news feed for anything interesting. It was mostly teenage garbage, spelled incorrectly with horrible grammar. Half the time, Wes couldn't even understand what the person was saying. There was a status from Peter about getting a haircut but Wes doubted he actually would. Dakota apparently thought the same, if the comment she made on it was any indication. She had changed her cover photo, but Wes didn't look at it for long. Alex had posted about their date and tagged him in it. Scrunching his nose, he looked up at the tool bar on top and frowned. He hadn't even noticed he was showing a new notification.

He was about to click on it to get rid of it when he saw Travis' name out of the corner of his eye. After a couple days of playing their little game, Travis had requested his friendship with the message "you know you wanna, baby." Wes did, but he let the invitation sit for a couple of days before he actually accepted it. If Travis grinned a little wider the next day, Wes most certainly did not blush in response.

Wes read and reread Travis' status a dozen times, his throat closing up around him and his breath hitched just a little. _"Baby, when I pictured that, I thought it would be more romantic."_ He put 'laugh out loud' in all caps in the next line, along with a grinning face and a winking one. It was sent from his phone and at a time where it could very well be about them holding hands in detention, or his hook-up with Syndy.

Wes sat there for a moment, staring at the screen. He battled with himself on the inside, the concentration evident on his face. He gripped the arm of the chair tightly with his hand and told himself that it shouldn't matter. Even if Travis was talking about him - and honestly, what were the chances - he obviously would have been joking about it. His stomach knotted uncomfortably at the idea of it being about Syndy. Why would he think of it as romantic? He wouldn't._ It's a joke,_ he reminded himself. Still, the thought of him going through with it made him sick to his stomach. Sighing, he closed the window and powered the computer down so he could get ready for his date.

He shuffled through his closet for something to wear. He picked a pair of nice black slacks, a button up white shirt, and a blue tie. It reminded him of Travis' eyes and Wes told himself to put it back and pick the green one Alex liked, but Wes was learning he may have a problem with pain and tormenting himself because he set it around his neck for when he was finished getting ready.

Neither of his parents were home. Wes thought it was odd. His father might not be home for hours but his mother should be there. She didn't have a job most of the time, just the occasional day at the preschool up the street when she'd help out with the kids. The preschoolers got out hours before he did, so even if she got stuck on cleanup duty, she still should have been home before him. She hadn't left a note this time either, and Wes' mind clouded with doubt and pain.

He pushed it from his thoughts, and continued to get ready. He was finished nearly an hour before he had to leave the house, but left anyway. He just wanted to be out of there. He couldn't stand the haunting silence anymore, but he didn't want to go on the date either.

It wasn't that he hated being around people. He did, but he always managed to suck it up and even sometimes semi enjoy himself when it came down to it. It all depended on who he was with and where they were. The restaurant he was taking Alex to was one of his favorites. It always had tons of people but was never crowded and it was quiet except for the jazz music they played in the background.

As much as he hated to admit it, it was Alex's company he didn't want. He loved her, sure, but the last thing he wanted to do was talk about their future together. They had planned it all out—and by that, he means Alex and his father—and it had been drilled into him enough as it was. He didn't need to hear it anymore but he knew Alex. It would be all she talked about.

He thought of the places he could go until he had to pick Alex up, but couldn't come up with anywhere but the elementary school. It was pathetic, and Wes knew that, but he went anyway. He sat on the swing, nearly forgetting about the dirt and germs. He pushed it, along with all his other problems, out of his mind and closed his eyes. He pushed off against the wood chips and allowed himself to go higher than he'd dared in a while.  
When he was younger, swings made his stomach hurt. He didn't like the lack of control. He didn't like the feeling of being so high and then going down so quickly. By the time he was in the sixth grade, he couldn't get enough of the swings. It was fun and he could do it alone. He didn't need friends, which was good because he didn't have any. The feeling of falling was welcomed then. It made him feel something and that was everything to him, even back then. Whenever his parents would fight, he would come and sit on the same swing and get lost in the feeling and the music on his ipod. His swing was the only place he felt safe. He missed coming here. He couldn't remember why he'd stopped.

He stayed there until he had to leave, and did so reluctantly. He felt an ache in his chest as he got back in the car but ignored it as best he could as he pulled out and drove to Alex's house. Like the gentleman his parents raised him to be, he got out of the car and walked up to the door. He rang the doorbell, and smiled politely at Alex's father when he answered it. Wes was never really sure how the man felt about him. He seemed to like him enough, never threatened him in any way, but Wes always got the feeling the man was faking it. Alex always told him it was merely because he was her boyfriend and her father was only looking out for her. Wes always made sure to look over his shoulder and never enter a dark room when he was around.

Alex looked beautiful. She always looked beautiful, but Wes could tell she spent extra time doing her makeup and picking out her outfit. Wes told her how stunning she looked, feeling embarrassed when Alex's mother cooed at them. They went through the normal routine of where they were going, how long it would take, and when Wes should bring her home. He agreed to the terms, as always, and followed Alex to the passenger side of the car to open her door for her. She giggled as he did so, mostly because of the look on his face.

The drive to the restaurant was silent and when they walked in ten minutes early, they were seated immediately. Alex really loved the place, but always made a face at the jazz music playing. Wes loved jazz and Alex had told him she did too when they first started dating, but Wes was starting to notice the look she had whenever it played.

Alex settled in to look at the menu and Wes did too, though he always got the same thing whenever he ate here. The waiter came and took their drink orders and was off again before either could blink. The man was busy, the place was nearly packed. They got a couple of glances their way, as per usual. How could two kids afford such a place when Alex's tea cost nearly ten dollars on it's own. They ignored it for the most part and when the waiter came back, both knew exactly what they wanted.

"So," Alex began, "how was your day?"

"Okay," he said, though for the first time in a while, Wes didn't know how his day had gone. Horribly came to mind. He fought with Travis and he wasn't sure how the man was feeling about it at the moment. But, he got to hold Travis' hands and admitted—to himself and himself only—that it had been rather nice. Travis was probably naked right now, having sex with the school whore and Wes knew for a fact that he hated the idea of that. "As always," he said instead of telling her all this.

She smiled, "How was detention?"

Wes rolled his eyes, "Sutton got his claws in us. We had to do the positive ion routine."

"We?"

"Travis and I," Wes clarified, shrugging. She didn't seem happy with the answer but didn't say anything about it.

"How'd he take that?"

"Fine," Wes told her, smiling slightly at remembering the look on Travis' face when Wes grabbed his hands. He definitely saw the frown on her face and quickly went back to his neutral expression. "A little confused, but he caught on quickly."

"That's good," she said, but sounded unsure of whether or not it was. "So, what's been up with you lately?"

Wes wanted to get up and walk away. That's how embarrassed he felt, but he sat still as a board instead before mumbling, "What do you mean?" Alex always did this. She poked and prodded and made him feel embarrassed. Wes knew it wasn't her, really, that was the problem. It was him. Her technique would work on others just fine, but not on him. She didn't seem to understand that and Wes didn't know how to tell her.

"You've been spending a lot of time with Travis," she told him, "and you've been getting into a lot of fights with him. Maybe you should drop him as your partner. He's probably dead weight anyway."

"He's not," Wes defended, "and Travis is alright. Annoying thorn in my side and a pain in my ass but he's better than anyone else I could have gotten." He told her, getting annoyed, "and of course I spend a lot of time with him, he's my partner. We have to work together a lot."

"...fine," Alex said after a moment of silence. "Is there anything you want to talk about, though?"

"Alex..."

"Not with Dr. Ryan," she told him, "with me."

There was one thing. Over the past couple of months something had been going on with his mother. It had been nagging at Wes for a while and it wasn't so much that he wanted to talk to Alex about it, but that he had to before his brain exploded. He frowned, studying her face, determining if he could trust her with something like this. At least she wanted him to talk to her and not Dr. Ryan. She had been on him about talking to her since the school year started. Finally, he sighed and opened his mouth to speak when she cut him off.

"Not here..." she said, looking around, "our food is coming and I'm really hungry."

"Okay," he said. If he wanted to get up and leave before, he wanted to jump out the window now. They ate in silence and when it came time to pay the bill, Wes pulled his card out without any thought to it. The waiter took it with their bill and was back in a matter of minutes. There was a line out the door and both knew they wanted the table.

"Hey," Alex said quietly, standing next to Wes so she could whisper in his ear, "we have some time. Why not park a little ways down the road and sneak up to my room?"

It should be music to his ears, but it felt more like a cold and broken lullaby. Wes nodded anyway and followed her out to the car. Alex seemed giddy with what was to come and Wes could feel his stomach knot from the thought of it. Wes stopped a couple houses down the road and walked up the sidewalk to Alex's house, holding her hand the entire time. She pulled him around the back where the basement window was always unlocked. They climbed down into the damp room and then snuck up the stairs. When they reached the top, Alex peered out to make sure her parents weren't there and then pulled Wes around the corner and up the second flight of stairs to her bedroom. She gently closed the door behind her, giggling into her hand as she did so.

"I can't believe this," she said.

"Me neither."

Awkwardly, Alex moved closer to Wes and placed her hands on his chest. She kissed him, and he kissed her back gently. She pulled away and kissed his neck, pulling at his tie and shirt so she could kiss his chest. She sat him down on her bed and cupped him through his pants, smiling nervously. He gulped, her hand feeling gentle—too gentle—and small—too small—and soft—too soft—against his half-erection. He closed his eyes as she leaned him back and started to take off his pants. He thought of Travis. Rough, big hands grabbing him and taking him into his mouth. His name was at the tip of his tongue and the realization was enough to jolt him. Alex was posed over the head of his cock, gathering the courage to actually start when Wes flinched, and she moved back on instinct.

"Alex..."

"Wes..."

"I'm sorry," he said, and before she could tell him it was okay, "I have to leave."

"What? Why?"

"I'm sorry," he repeated, "I'll see you later." He snuck out the same way he came.

He sat in his car for twenty minutes before he trusted himself to drive.


	8. Chapter 8

Here is chapter eight! Like always, I wish to thank my lovey wonderful beta, MJ. She not only keeps fixings he same mistakes I keep making but she also named this chapter for me. Please give her a big round of applause cause honestly? She's the Wes to my Travis when it comes to editing because she makes me slow down and do things properly and yeah...I so just used that. Yup. That just happened. Wanna fight about it? :)

* * *

**A Meal for Wheels**

* * *

If Travis was sure of anything, it was that life isn't fair. When he was five, he was in his sixth foster home—as if that wasn't unfair enough—and his foster mother would buy a bag of Hershey kisses and sit at the table and count out the whole bag in five piles—one for him and each of his four siblings—and set them out on separate plates with their names on them. His foster mother had said it was to be fair. By now, Travis knew life couldn't count kisses and furthermore, it had no idea it even should.

So when Travis knew for sure that he wanted Wes for more than just sex, more than just friendship, Travis didn't blame life. He blamed Wes. Obviously, it was his fault. If the blond hadn't been so cute and sexy and funny and smart and maddening and frustrating—well, if Wes hadn't been so Wes, Travis wouldn't be in this situation.

And with that stupid logic in mind, and honestly he was not fooling anyone, Travis walked through the doors of Oakland, sneered at the stupid mural on the wall and walked to his first hour class. Despite seeing Wes being the last thing he wanted, it was also the number one thing he did want, and so Travis actually showed up to class on time, sat in his chair, and glared at the board. Travis was pretending he didn't notice Wes sitting right next to him, and the blond seemed to be doing the exact same thing, so Travis just continued to glare as if the board had offended him somehow.

Two minutes before the bell rang, Dr. Ryan looked up from her desk to see who had shown up so far and who was still missing. Her eyes stopped immediately on Travis, her brow raising in question more than confusion. Travis had this sneaking feeling that she knew more than she let on and was always trying to get them to confirm what she already knew.

Travis did his best to ignore her, but there was something about her that kept bringing him back. She reminded him of all the social workers he'd dealt with growing up. They were all so calculating and seemingly concerned when in reality it was just their job. It wasn't Dr. Ryan's though, not really, yet she was always staring at him and Wes, and a couple of others kids too, he noticed.

They locked eyes and he glared for no reason, but she didn't seem to take offense. The bell rang and just like that, her attention was on her class and the lesson she had planned for them. Travis had no idea what the lesson was about, nor the notes he had taken. He'd just have to remember to read over them later.

He focused more on Wes than anything else and it was a good thing he knew how to multi-task. It shouldn't have been this difficult. Travis had liked other people enough to date them. At least, that's what he told himself. There were girls like Syndy that just wanted to have a good time and Travis was honestly okay with that. Then there were girls like Randi who wanted to be in a relationship before having sex. Travis was by no means her first, but she still had principles and Travis had gone along with it, taken her out a couple of times, and he may have even told her he liked her more than he actually did. They were together for a month or so, and Travis did start to care about her and her dog Hudson, but not enough to stay even if she did ever want to have sex. And that was why it was more difficult. Travis didn't know if Wes would even take a good second glance at him and while that hurt Travis on some level, he thought friend-Wes was better than no Wes at all.

When class was over, Dr. Ryan came between their desks and stared at them intently while she told everyone else they could leave. Wes and Travis exchanged looks but said nothing.

"So," she said, "Principle Sutton called me last night. He said you two got into a fight Friday."

"It wasn't a big deal," Travis lied.

"Oh, I think it was," she said back, sitting in the now empty chair in front of him. "Is there something you two want to talk about?"

"No," Wes spoke up, Travis nodding in agreement. How was he supposed to talk about this with anyone? Especially her and Wes. It was embarrassing enough as it was. Last year when he thought about sex, he thought of whatever girl had caught his attention at the time. Now all he could think about was Wes, and it was driving him insane.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," Travis said and stood up. Sighing, Dr. Ryan wrote out two late passes and let them leave. The two walked slowly down the hall together, ignoring each other but never moving too far away.

"I'm sorry," Wes said finally, but the blond didn't feel any better. "I should have never said...what I said. I was being a douche."

"The biggest," Travis agreed, but then smiled. "It's alright, Wes. I didn't help. I, uh," he paused, thinking back to everything that happened last Friday. "I had a bad day too."

"That, um, assignment is due today," Wes reminded him and Travis stopped dead in his tracks, rolling his head back and sighing unhappily. "Wow, I didn't know you hated spending time with me that much."

Travis lightly shoved Wes, the blond staggering back a little and actually chuckling at the look on Travis' face. "Wanna eat lunch together?"

"…Lunch?"

"So we can finish it before class," Travis clarified.

"Oh," Wes said, and God he wanted to say yes but…"I finished it over the weekend. Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I promised I would help," was all Travis said, before starting to walk down the hallway again. People were staring at them like they always did. The two were usually fighting about something or other and even when they weren't, people still stared. It was odd to see them together, even Travis and Wes had admitted that to each other. They came from different worlds and were two very different people.

"Don't worry about it," Wes shrugged. "You can make it up to me later."

"Oh?"

"Hmm."

"You can do whatever you want with me," Travis told him, turning around in the hallway and walking backwards in front of Wes. The slightly younger one blushed, turning his head in an attempt to hide it. It didn't work, but Travis kept that to himself. "Hey…my offer still stands."

"What offer?" The bell rang just then, and they were now alone in the halls. Wes turned down the hallway where his locker was with Travis close behind.

"You should come to the game today," the other responded, "It'll be great. You can watch me and my amazing football skills. That is, if you can even tell what's going on…"

He hoped his tone and smile told Wes that he was only teasing. He actually laughed when Wes shoved him into the locker next to his before continuing to grab his stuff.

"I do know how the game works, Travis." It wasn't really a lie. He knew enough to understand when something good or bad happened but not enough to always know exactly what was going on.

"Then say yes," Travis told him, and he wondered if Wes could see through him and know what this was really all about. "Show off your impressive knowledge of football."

"I don't know, Trav…"

"Come on, baby, for me?"

Wes smiled, and Travis felt his heart flutter just a little bit when the blond told him he'd think about it. It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a no either, and that was the closest thing to a yes Travis was probably ever going to get.

...

Apologizing to Travis had been a lot harder than Wes had expected. He had been wrong, he knew that and wasn't ashamed to admit it. But he'd hurt Travis and saying sorry isn't always enough. It didn't make Wes feel any less guilty but Travis seemed to accept it.

He wanted to ask why Travis was in a bad mood that day, but brought up the assignment instead. It was really none of his business and he didn't want Travis freaking out once he remembered their assignment was due this afternoon. He had thought about calling Travis and asking him to meet up but he didn't think Travis would want to see him, and after the disaster that was his date, Wes didn't need to see him in any kind of afterglow.

Wes didn't actually need anything out of his locker for second hour, but he never felt like the walls were caving in on him when he walked down the hallway next to Travis. Even after the bell rang, he didn't want to leave just yet, so he walked to his locker and thankfully Travis followed behind. He put his first hour stuff away and grabbed his third, not at all caring about the time.

When Travis asked him to go to his game, he wanted to say yes. He wanted to go and see Travis play and maybe even cheer for him if he could find the courage. He was just too scared to go. There would be implications and there was always Alex to think about, even though he honestly didn't want to face her just yet.

"So how was your date?"

"It got cut short," Wes answered, thinking that it somehow sounded better than the truth. "What about yours?" Wes figured he must like being in pain since he was so willing to ask how Travs' hook up went.

"I canceled," Travis told him, shrugging. "She wasn't important."

And with that, the two headed towards Travis' locker so he could get his stuff as well. "Oh, my God, Travis, your locker is disgusting." The filth of his locker actually distracted Wes from the relief he felt.

"It is not," Travis defended, throwing an old food bag from, well, Travis honestly had no clue what it was from, in the back. "Don't make me hide your sanitizer again."

When Travis was finished, they went their separate ways. Wes presented his late pass and sat down, dreading the rest of the day. He hadn't seen Alex yet and he didn't want to. He didn't know what to tell her. He really thought about telling her the truth, but he could only imagine how she'd react to knowing he ran because he was thinking of Travis blowing him instead.

Wes barely made it through his classes until lunch. Second hour went by too quickly and Travis was all over him at gym class. Wes couldn't say that he minded. Wes really loved spending time with the other teen and if Clyde had a problem with it, he didn't care. Wes never hung out with his 'friends' during gym anymore. Travis was always trying to talk to him or challenge him and that was usually what Wes spent his time doing. Even if they were on the same team, the two constantly kept track of who scored more or who made the better save. Clyde thought it was stupid but Peter was always laughing about it.

Showering had become less awkward, but only because Travis had seen Wes almost naked so many times it just didn't matter anymore. Wes wanted to impress him—with what or how, Wes was completely clueless—but there was no stopping Travis from walking in his shower cubicle or down his locker aisle for no reason whatsoever. Wes was no longer trying to stop him.

Just as he was leaving gym, Peter grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. "Dakota said she needs you for something. I'm not sure what she wants, but if you could go by the music room she'll stop texting me and that would be just fantastic."

Wes only nodded, feeling less uncomfortable around Peter with every interaction they have. Peter seemed to like him, and he was in love with Dakota and Dakota was nice, so Wes decided to try his best to get along with the curly haired teen. So far, there hadn't been any problems.

He went to his locker and grabbed his stuff before heading to the music room. He had no idea why Dakota would need him for anything, especially in the music room but it got him away from Alex for an extra couple of minutes and that was all Wes cared about at the moment.  
Dakota instantly bounced over to him when he entered the room. The only people there were Dakota, Rozelle, and the music teacher Mrs. Duhnount. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to the corner of the room. "Alex told me what happened," she told him, giving him a small smile, "I thought maybe I'd save you from going to lunch today."

He smiled his thanks. "I'll have to face her at some point." Dakota gave him a look that said somehow she knew something was going on with him. Maybe she knew what it was, maybe she didn't but either way, he was thankful. He sent a quick text to Alex, telling him where he was and with who before walking over with the bubbly girl and sitting next to Rozelle. The darker skinned girl looked at him funny, and it was then he remembered she was dating Clyde.

"So," She said, "you and Travis…"

Oh, yeah. Now Wes remembered. Queen of Gossip.

"Leave him alone," Dakota defended, coming to sit down on the other side of him.

"Girl, I'm just wondering," Rozelle said, "Clyde is too. What? Don't look at me like that. I wasn't gonna tell him if it was true. Though honestly, I don't think he'd mind all that much."

Wes just kept silent, blushing. Alex texted him back, asking none too friendly why he was hanging out with two other girls during lunch. Normally it wouldn't have been a problem but Wes couldn't blame her for getting mad, not after what had happened. He told her Dakota wanted a man's opinion on her performance for music class and she didn't trust Peter to be honest.

Fine. We need to talk after school.

Wes sighed and both Dakota and Rozelle looked over his shoulder. "Tell her you have plans."

"Why are you two trying to help me run away from her?"  
"We're not stupid, blondie," Rozelle told him. "We're just helping until this all blows up in your face."

"Um, I think what Rozelle means is, we've noticed you and Travis…talking and we know you need help making up your mind."

Wes wanted to say that he didn't need help. That Alex had been and always would be his first choice. But that would be a lie. He had no idea what to do. He knew what he wanted to do, and what others would want him to do, but not what he should do. Instead of saying any of this, he said, "I don't have plans…except, well. Travis did invite me to the game. I told him maybe I would go."

"You can come with us!" Dakota jumped up and down.

"Tell her you forgot you told Travis you would go and then think about what to say to her tonight."

"How do you know I didn't already think about it?"

"'Cause boys are stupid."

...

Wes had never been to a school game before, except for tennis of course, but playing is a little different than attending. It looked like the entire school was there and Wes didn't recognize most of the faces at all. He stood awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs while he waited for the others.

Omg. I am sooo sorry but Alex decided to come too!

Wes nearly groaned at Dakota's text but he could see the girls walking up to him.

"Wes!" The blond turned, coming face to face with a grinning Travis. "You came!"

"Yeah," Wes told him, smiling, "good luck out there. I'm sure you'll kick ass." Travis grinned at him before disappearing through the crowed. When Wes turned back around, the girls had reached him. Together they all went up the narrow stairs and took the closest seats to the field they could find. Wes sat between Dakota and Alex and studied the field, both to get a better understanding and to avoid Alex's eyes.

"Ouch!"

Wes looked up at Alex's yelp. A man not much older than them, wearing a leather jacket and torn jeans was apologizing to her. Another man, at least five years older, seated behind Wes, scolded him.

"I'm so sorry, miss."

"That's okay," Alex told him, smiling. The man sat down next to her, and the other next to him.

"I'm Wheels," he said, "this is Money." He gestured towards the other man. "We're Travis Marks' brothers, if you know him."

"Yeah, I do." She smiled. "I'm Alex and this is Wes. I'm sure you know everyone else."

"Yeah," Wheels nodded. "Hey," he called for Wes' attention. "Are you Wes Mitchell?"

He nodded.

Wheels and Money laughed. "Our baby brother talks about you all the time. Glad to meet you. I see he finally convinced you to come to a game."

Wes did his best to smile. "Yeah, finally twisted my arm hard enough."

Wheels nodded before turning his attention back to Alex. "So, it's Alex, huh?"

"Yeah," she smiled.

"Pretty name," he commented and she giggled. Wes stopped listening after that. Travis had found him from where he was and waved. Wes waved back and smiled.

If all he saw was Travis after that, no one could really blame him. Travis dominated the field and Wes was really happy that he came.


	9. Chapter 9

Hello, everyone! It is currently a little after four in the morning and I cannot sleep. Which sucks because I'm kinda sick. Right before I went to bed I was told I was "crying in agony". I slept for a couple hours but after I woke up, I decided the best medicine would be getting my ass in to gear and posting this chapter. I feel better already.

If you follow me or go on the Common Law thread on Tumblr, you'd know that the next chapter is already complete. I'm just waiting for it to be edited by my lovely beta, MJ, who is so amazing that at this point, I'm not really sure how I survived before I met her...

I shall start chapter eleven sometime today. I already have it planned out. I just haven't gotten around to actually writing it. I'll probably write start it before attempting to sleep again.

Anywho, tell me what you thought! You know I love to hear your opinions! :D

* * *

**Yellow**

* * *

Wes was never a big fan of football. His father never liked the sport and his mother thought it was dangerous. When Wes was little, he wanted to play because it looked fun, but his mother signed him up for tennis instead. Wes wasn't sure when he started to hate football, probably when he entered high school, but he did. There was something about most of the players that Wes hated. They were all popular, skirting by in school. They were idolized. Normal. Wes resented them.

Travis was different. The dark teen really liked to play, not for the popularity or the win, but for the rush of the game. That's what he told Wes anyway, and the blond had no reason not to believe him. Travis couldn't afford their school on his own and playing football was the best way to stay there. It took away from his studies, and though most players wouldn't care, Travis did. He hated homework but did it anyway. Wes liked that about him.

Wes went to the game to get away from Alex but also because he really wanted to see Travis play. The entire team did a great job, but it was Travis' name everyone chanted when they won. Watching the team lift Travis in the air felt strange to him. He wanted to be there with him, congratulate him like he deserved but he also wanted to run and hide. He didn't belong there.

The crowd was dispersing little by little. Wes left with the others, not caring or even really noticing when Alex stayed a little behind to talk to Travis' brother. Wes stayed behind with her while she finished her conversation, his eyes looking through the crowd for Travis. Money was watching all of them from his spot up against the wall of the side of the school, looking both amused and annoyed all at the same time.

"Wes!"

Wes turned at the voice, nearly getting tackled by a very excited Travis. Wes laughed a little at the older teen's excitement and clapped his hands on his shoulders in order to keep both of them steady.

"Don't forget about us, T-Bone," Money said, smiling from his spot. His arms were crossed over his chest but he didn't look as annoyed anymore.

Travis blushed a little, and Wes thought, maybe, Travis felt something too. It made sense, but Wes shook the idea from his mind. Hoping would get him nowhere. "Sorry, man," he hugged both his brothers, "Thanks for coming."

"What," Wheels asked, "and miss you kicking ass? Not for the world, my brother."

Travis chuckled a little. "Thanks." He turned to Wes and Wes could see the hope in his eyes.

"Yeah," Wes said, his voice a little shaky. "You were...amazing. I can't believe I didn't come sooner."

"Then come again," Travis asked, "practice tomorrow?"

"Sure," Wes said, "I'd like that." Wes was taken back for just a moment. He had an eerie sense of deja vu from when he'd asked Alex out on their first date, except this time he was on the other end of the offer. He didn't remember feeling this excited back then either.

Alex cleared her throat uncomfortably but Wes only gave a subtle shrug in response. It wasn't like he could say anything now, but he still didn't want her to think he was ignoring her. Wheels patted her back gently and she smiled her thank you a little awkwardly.

"Do you guys wanna go get something to eat?" Wes instantly felt awkward and he could tell both Travis and Money did as well. Wheels seemed to be the only person who didn't understand what was going on.

"I'd love to but I gotta get home," Alex said, giving Wheels an apologetic look. "We'll um, talk later, Wes?"

The blond nodded and it was at this point Wheels seemed to put the pieces together. His mouth hung open in an 'O' as Alex walked away, leaving the boys alone.

"What about you, Wes?"

"Hm?"

"Hungry?"

"Oh, um," he was, but he needed to get home as well. Then again, Travis was pouting and neither of his parents were probably home... "Yeah, I am."

"Can we get pizza?" Travis looked like a kid.

Money laughed as they started to walk to the parking lot. "Anything for the MVP."

Travis laughed, and then asked, "Uncle Louie?"

"Like we could go anywhere else."

Wes was familiar with the pizzeria but had never been inside before. When he got to his car, Wheels and Money started heading in the direction of their truck. Travis grabbed his bike helmet but then set it back down and opened the passenger door of Wes' car.

"Mind if I get a ride?"

Wes swallowed hard. "Not a problem. Something wrong with the bike?"

"Nah," Travis said, "I wanna ride with you."

"Then hurry up and get in." Wes told him and Travis smirked as he climbed into the car, hopping excitingly like a child. "Keep that window open. You stink."

"Smell of champions," Travis defended and then leaned closer to Wes. "Want a better smell?"

"Ew, Travis, no!"

"Come on baby, it ain't that bad."

"Isn't."

"Isn't what?"

"The correct word was isn't, not ain't."

"Whatever," Travis smiled and put his feet on the dash.

"Travis!"

The football player laughed and Wes reached over and swatted at his ankles. Travis set his feet down but then put them back up when Wes was on the road. The blond glared at him, but didn't move to hit him again. When they made it to the pizzeria, Money and Wheels were already there waiting. Wes shoved Travis as they walked up to the door, mumbling something about his dash as he did. Travis just flung his arm around him and pulled him close. Wes leaned in just a little and when they walked in to see half of the football players and their friends and families, Travis refused to let the blond go. "Not this time," he said in Wes' ear and he blushed but made no further attempt to get away.

"I'm thinking of...breaking up with Alex," Wes told him while they waited for their pizza. The place was so crowded Money and Wheels were eating outside, waiting for them. There was this look in Travis' eyes, both hopeful and worried and it killed Wes to the point where he wanted to take the words back.

"Really? I mean, why?"

Wes honestly hadn't been thinking about it. He had been thinking about what he'd say to explain his actions on Friday, but now that he said it to Travis, it seemed like the more reasonable thing to do. Whether Travis felt the same way Wes did, whether it was a phase, a crush, or love, it wasn't fair to Alex. He loved her with all his heart; she was a wonderful person. He just wasn't in love with her. She deserved someone who was.

Wes was used to taking the safer route. That was why he didn't fight his father on being a lawyer. It was the safer choice and Alex was as safe as he could get when it came to a future spouse. It would be hard for him to break it off. He hated to see her upset and, god, Wes thought he was such a coward. Still, he had said it, so he just nodded to Travis as he cleared his throat. "She's great," Wes said with a shrug, "but we're not right for each other. I don't know."

Travis just nodded his head as they got their pizza and slowly headed towards the door. "That's rough, buddy." Wes shrugged and Travis instantly changed the topic. "So...practice tomorrow?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

"It's not as exciting as a game..."

"I'm sure I'll enjoy it." Just then, Money and Wheels said their goodbyes. Wheels wanted to stay, but Money began pulling him away by the collar of his shirt. It was obvious that Money was trying to leave Travis alone with Wes and, for a moment, both stood awkwardly as they watched a near clueless Wheels get hauled off by his older brother.

Wes hated to see them go. Getting to know them had been easy and Wes enjoyed their company. But he was alone with Travis, so that was a plus. He hoped Travis felt the same. The two looked at each after for a second before Travis opened his mouth to speak but closed it just as quickly. Wes thought about asking, but decided it wasn't the best time. The two finished their pizza in a comfortable silence before getting back in the car and heading towards the school. Wes turned on the radio and Travis instantly turned the channel. "Hey," Wes said, turning it back to Jazz. Travis turned it to a rap station and Wes turned it back. Travis pouted, making the other laugh. Wes turned it to Travis' station. "A reward for winning today," he said, smiling a little.

Wes absolutely hated what was coming out of his speakers but Travis seemed to be enjoying himself. He'd let it slide. This time. When they got back to the school, Travis looked at Wes for a moment before getting out of the car. There were so many things Wes wanted to say but he was scared and it wasn't fair to Travis to start something he couldn't finish.

Wes watched Travis drive away, still completely in his uniform, minus the pads he left in the locker room. He wanted to tell him not to go but he was too scared to open his mouth.

_I'm such a damn coward_.

...

A couple days went by since Wes attended Travis' game. It was Thursday morning, and Wes had been to the practice on Tuesday and worked with Travis on a new assignment for law on Wednesday. It wasn't just to avoid Alex—though it was pretty effective—Wes actually enjoyed watching Travis dominate the field. There was something about him, how he gloated enough to ruffle feathers but not enough to seem like a complete douchebag.

It wasn't unusual for the girlfriends of the players to come to the practices, sometimes even other friends or family. On Tuesday, Wes went to the practice with Rozelle and Dakota with Alex trailing behind them. She was starting to suspect something, Wes was sure, but with one of the girls and not Travis. Honestly, Wes thought that was the most ridiculous thing. Dakota was so completely in love with Peter and Rozelle and Clyde were made for each other. Rozelle would probably also bite his head off.

Together, the girls walked down the hall of their school towards the football field, Wes trailing slightly behind. He didn't know what to do. Or rather, how to do what he needed to. Dakota stopped walking and looped arms with him to bring him closer and Wes smiled just a little. He liked this. He liked the group he was now involved with.

Wes wanted to break up with Alex. He couldn't keep leading her on like he was, and the longer he did, the more it was going to hurt her in the end. He almost told Travis he couldn't come to the game that day so he could talk to her but he chickened out. Alex was actually excited about the game, though Wes wasn't too sure why. Alex hated football almost as much as he used to.

As the four exited the building, the wind blew heavily towards them. Dakota wrapped her coat tighter around her. Rozelle put Clyde's jacket on and the two continued for the bleachers. Wes wanted to give Alex his, but all he had was his thin school cardigan. Alex just shrugged and kept walking, Wes catching up a second later.

They sat in their usual spot, all excited for the game to begin. Wheels and Money sat next to them and when Alex shivered, Wheels offered his hoodie to her.

"Um...Wes? Do you mind?"

"No. Go ahead." Wes realized he should have minded. And in some ways he did, but it wasn't a big deal, whether they were together or not. When Alex scooted over and sat closer to Wheels, Wes was annoyed. Not because he wanted Alex close to him but because Alex deserved better. Then again, Alex was so amazing she deserved perfection that didn't exist. It was a shame he wasn't in with love her.

"Hey! There's our MVP!"

Travis came jogging up to them then, a big smile on his face. He talked to his brothers for a couple of minutes before turning his attention to Wes. Travis looked confused for a second before excusing himself. He came back a couple minutes later with his leather jacket in his hands. "Here," he said to Wes, not even waiting for the blond to take it and putting it around his shoulders. Wes blushed but he thanked him anyway, letting his arms through the sleeves and enjoying the smell of Travis around him.

"Mhm," Rozelle said, smirking. Dakota giggled and Money laughed. Wes didn't want to look at Alex but he could feel her eyes on him. Travis' jacket smelt like him, musky but clean. Wes could smell his aftershave and for a second let himself enjoy it. He blushed harder then, but could have sworn Travis was blushing too. He should have taken it off and handed it back but Wes didn't want to. And for once, he was going to do what he wanted.

"Marks! Stop your flirting and get over here!"

"I'll see you guys after the game," he said and then ran back to his team. Peter punched him lightly in the arm, and Clyde appeared to he laughing. When Wes looked at Alex, her eyes were wide, but she didn't appear to be in shock. Wes thought, maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe she knew. Wheels said something to her, once again oblivious to the situation around him. The blond wasn't sure how he felt about him. Wheels knew that Wes and Alex were together but was still flirting. He thought of Travis and himself then and pushed the idea out of his mind. He didn't want to think about that and what it all meant.

Alex let her attention shift and was absorbed in what Wheels was saying within seconds. Wes decided to just enjoy the game and deal with the consequences later. He snuggled further into Travis' jacket and Dakota giggled again as she briefly laid her head on Wes' shoulder, smiling at him. He did his best to smile back. Dakota always had this bubble of happiness and hope around her. She believed in love conquering all and Wes wished more than anything he could feel the same way. Dakota was certain everything would be perfect in the end. Wes just couldn't see it himself.

Their team lost, Brady refusing to pass the ball and trying to make a final touchdown on his own. He was tackled yards away by Morgan, who stood up immediately and started cheering. Travis glared at the guy before coming to help Brady up. There was a dull, disappointed feeling spread throughout the crowd, but Wes could hear the sounds of the other team's school cheering. Wes could tell Travis was mad at Brady but Brady just walked angrily off the field. There was something in Travis' stance as he stared at Morgan and a triumph in the taller teen's look that came from something other than football. Wes made a note to ask about it later as everyone started to leave the stands.

"You were still amazing," Wes told Travis when he saw him ten minutes later.

"Thanks, baby," the older said back, giving him a small smile.

"Did you let Brady have it?" Money asked, an annoyed look on his face. His arms were crossed over his chest and Wes was sure he wasn't the only one who knew Money was looking for the other player.

"Not yet."

"Make sure you hit him extra hard for all of us," Alex said, patting Travis on the shoulder. "I hate to do this, but Wes and I really have to go." She kissed Travis' cheek softly, an apologetic look on her face. Dakota looked like she was about to say something but Wes shook his head. He had thought about what he'd say. Dakota squeezed his hand in reassurance.

Wes and Alex left a minute later, staying close but not holding hands. They walked through the crowd and into the night air. Wes walked Alex to her car and for a moment, the two just stared at each other.

"I thought it was Dakota," Alex admitted, "but now..."

"Alex, about Friday..."

"Wes, I need time to think." She said, cutting him off, "and I think you do too. You've changed..." Wes was about to interrupt but she wouldn't let him. "For better or worse...I'm not sure yet but you have." She kissed his cheek and got in her car, leaving Wes alone to watch her go.

It was at that moment that Wes realized Alex was still wearing Wheels' hoodie. And, he still had Travis' jacket. It felt over, even though it really wasn't.

Wes couldn't breathe.


	10. Chapter 10

So, I know I said that this chapter was done a long time ago. And it was. And I planned to post but...well, have you ever heard the saying "life is what happens when you're busy making other plans?" Yes? No? Well someone said it! So here it is! MJ did a Beautful job as always. And for whatever reason, my phone auto capitalized the B in beautiful so I'm leaving it!

Also, a lot of you have been asking when the romance will begin.

Now.

* * *

Pull You Close

* * *

By Friday morning, half the school knew about Alex and Wes' break. Wes honestly wasn't sure how. No, that was a lie. It was Rozelle. Absolutely positively, a hundred and fifty percent her fault. He wasn't sure if he should strangle her for doing it, or thank her for getting it over with. It was weird, but the more people who knew, the more real it felt to him. Travis had tried to make him feel better, even coming to his locker in the morning to hang with him. Wes hated to admit it, but Travis somehow made everything better. Wes couldn't help himself. When he closed his locker door, only to see Travis standing next to him with a stupid grin and a chocolate bar, all Wes could think to do was scold and ask, "Who told you?"

Travis only looked guilty for a second before recovering. "Told me what? A man can't come see his best friend at his locker with a smile and a chocolate bar? It's Snickers...your favorite."

Wes hummed, half annoyed and half pleased. Snickers was his favorite. He snatched the bar from Travis' hands and opened it as the two walked down the hall together. As they did, Wes couldn't help but think about what Travis had said. He had never had a best friend before, not even really any friends unless he counted Alex and Dakota. He never had a real guy friend before and it came as a bit of a surprise to realize that he considered Travis to be his best friend.

People pointed, whispered, plain out-right stared at them. Wes' throat tightened. The walls almost seemed to move closer when the halls were crowded, even more if he knew someone was watching him. Wes felt like the walls were on top of him. He could barely breathe and all he wanted to do was throw up. Travis seemed to realize what was wrong and wrapped his arm around Wes' waist, pulling him tight against him and guiding him through the hall.

Wes didn't think about the implications or hurting Alex or any rumors that may start. He only thought of Travis and how good he smelled and how comfortable and safe he felt in that moment. He took a bite of the chocolate bar before ripping a piece of and handing the other half to Travis. Instead of taking it, he leaned forward and swallowed it whole, nibbling Wes' fingers as he did so. "Gross, Travis!" The older teen just laughed. It only took a moment for Wes to realize they were going in the opposite direction of their classroom. "Travis..."

"Don't worry about it baby," Travis said but it only made Wes worry even more. Another minute later, Wes found himself staring at the Staff Only sign he passed everyday but never paid too much attention to. When none of the teachers were looking, Travis opened the door and guided Wes inside.

"We're not allowed to be in here." Wes said matter of factly, looking down the empty stairway. He didn't freak about it like he might have normally but he still wasn't comfortable. It felt better than being under everyone's gaze, though, and that was one of the only things keeping him standing in place. The second was Travis' arms still wrapped tightly around him.

"Live a little," was all Travis said in response, throwing his bag down and sitting on the step, his back against the railing. Wes hesitated a moment before setting his bag down and sitting down on the step lower than Travis, his head resting awkwardly on the curve of Travis' shoulder when he leaned.

"You were gonna break up with her anyway."

"What?"

"That's what you're supposed to say."

Travis shrugged. "You didn't, and I figured there was a reason why."

"I...don't do well with change." That was a bit of an understatement. It had taken him twenty minutes just to get his breathing under control and allow himself to get into his car. He had wanted so badly to call Travis but he knew he wouldn't be able to handle it if he came. It would have been too much all at once, and Wes wasn't honestly sure what he would have done. He listened to his heartbeat for a moment, feeling the pulse in his chest. It was a habit he had after having a panic attack. He suffered through so many over the years, always alone and always frightened, that now they seemed almost as normal as the grass being green.

"I know," Travis said, and the two let a small silence fall over them. "How long have you known?" When Wes didn't answer, he said, "That you were obsessive compulsive."

Wes lowered his head slightly. It wasn't hard—at least Wes didn't think so—to tell but no one really paid that much attention. Alex didn't know until their third month of dating and even then, Wes had to tell her. "Since I was twelve, but I showed signs before that. My parents...never noticed."

"That sucks, man."

Wes just shrugged, frowning as the memories clouded his mind. It still hurt sometimes. That he had been suffering for years before his parents really looked at him and saw it. It took them another year of being in denial before talking to a doctor. "Since we're being all...honest here. Can I ask you something?" When Travis nodded, Wes swallowed the lump on his throat and said, "There are rumors...about your record."

"Mhm."

"Are they true?"

"Twice," Travis said, "I got sent to juvie twice."

"What for?"

"I stole a car," he grinned, a look in his eye, "Money will no doubt tell you the story. And uh...I got in trouble for drag racing when I was fifteen. Different car."

"That's dangerous, Travis. How could you risk your life like that?"

"Geez mom, I don't know what got into me." He gave Wes a look before laughing and Wes found himself laughing too, a slight blush on his face. Travis was sitting next to him with no visible scars and yet, he'd still felt a pull at his heart at knowing what could have come from it.

"She fell for that, didn't she?"

"Who?"

"Your mom."

"Like stealing candy from a baby, man." They laughed again. "I'm sorry about that day. Morgan told everyone here and I lost it. I took it out on you." Travis didn't clarify what day he was talking about, but Wes didn't need him too.

"The football guy? From Eastland?

"His dad arrested me the second time."

Wes nodded his understanding. "Was it fun?"

Travis gave the other a look before laughing. Wes blushed, shoving him lightly in the arm. "Looks like someone has a wild side. Ever thought about it?"

"No! I mean...driving is something...nevermind."

Travis gave a little smile. "I won't laugh."

The warning bell rang and Wes stood up before it stopped. "Let's get going." Travis took Wes' hand and pulled him down into his lap. Wes yelped, feeling himself fall, but Travis held him tight and safe against him. "Travis!"

"I won't laugh."

Wes took a shaky breath. Looking at his hands, he said, "I lose so much control sometimes that...it's nice to have control over something that could do real damage if I didn't." He looked at Travis and, realizing how close they were, took another shaky breath. Travis leaned forward, their noses brushing against each other. All Wes had to do was lean forward. It seemed like that was what Travis was waiting for. "Travis...I..."

The darker teen made a noise, a mix between disappointment and want, his eyes closing for just a second. He pulled back, and Wes thought he'd be mad but there was this look in his eye instead. All want but even more understanding. A kind look that made Wes want to kiss him even more.

The final bell rang. They were late. He was late. He was never late. Until now. And he was surprisingly okay with that. He didn't feel like the walls were on top of him anymore. For once, he felt almost...normal. He stood up, offering Travis his hand. He took it and the two left the stairwell and entered the now empty hallway together.

"Dr. Ryan is not going to be happy," Travis teased.

"I think she will be." At the weird look he got, Wes chuckled and said, "Come on, with all those looks she gives us?"

"We should make her really proud." Travis smiled, taking Wes' hand. "Come on."

"Come where?"

"Just come on. We're already late. Might as well just skip school all together. It's all the same."

"They're completely different, Trav."

"Nah," the other said, gently pulling Wes towards the door. Wes stopped suddenly, pulling Travis back with him. "It'll be okay. It's not the end of the world. The school will be here tomorrow."

"With double homework!"

"Like you can't handle it."

Wes hesitated another moment before allowing Travis to lead him down the hall and out the side door to the teacher parking lot. The student parking lot was at the front, where principle Sutton could watch over from his office. If someone left, he usually knew. To get directly to the student lot, you had to pass the office and the administration office. Travis let go of his hand and the two began to sneak around classrooms around the building to get to the front.

"Wanna take my bike?"

"Oh, no. I'm not getting on that thing. Get in the car."

"I'll get you on it," Travis told him, "one day."

"In your dreams."

Travis hummed, smirking as he got into the car. "Can I drive?"

Wes snorted. "Funny. No. Feet off the dash."

Travis rolled his eyes but did as he was told. Travis left the radio station alone, even though he looked like he was dying while listening to it. He didn't comment on it, and Wes was glad for that. He liked this song.

"Where are we going anyway?"

"You'll see," Travis smirked, causing a shiver to go through Wes' body. "Turn right here, left when you get to the second light."

Wes couldn't help but be nervous, but he was too excited to really care.

...

"Principal Sutton?"

"Yes, Dr. Ryan?"

"I saw both Wes and Travis this morning but they aren't in my class."

Sutton smiled happily, his eyes closed as he meditated. "The boys left together right after first hour started."

"Together?" She sounded happy and concerned all at the same time.

"They took Wes' car."

"And you just...let them go?"

Sutton opened his eyes, his smile widening. "Should I have stopped them?"

Dr. Ryan only smiled in response.

...

"Where are we?"

"This is where I used to race," Travis told him as he unbuckled his seatbelt. The roads were a little rocky there, but no one was around. There was a garage off to the side of the road. Wes parked close to it. "Come on," he said, "let's get a car."

Wes didn't question him and for once Travis was grateful. They walked up to the garage and Travis walked into the worn down place like he owned it. Wes hesitantly stepped in behind him.

"Well look what the cat dragged in," a small girl with brown hair and blue eyes said from behind the counter. "Travis Marks, what on Earth are you doing here? I thought you went straight."

"I did," he shrugged, "but, uh, I need to barrow Barry for a while. Nothing major."

The girl eyed him before noticing Wes standing behind him. She looked him over and said, "Who's your friend, Travis?"

"Oh! Sorry. Melanie, this is Wes. Wes, this is Melanie. She was my foster sister."

Travis could tell Wes was happy for the connection. He almost wanted to laugh, tease him on how jealous he had looked but stopped himself. Wes was starting to show his true colors, he wasn't about to push him too far. Not when he could help it.

"He got a girl?"

Travis growled, "No..."

"A boy?"

"Maybe."

"You know I'm standing right here, right?"

"Yeah," the two said in union. Melanie shrugged, handing Travis the keys that were sitting next to her on the desk.

"Be good to Barry."

"Yes, ma'am."

Travis nodded his head towards the door in the back and Wes followed him. There was multiple cars in the back but there was one that looked like it was the most well take care of. Wes' eyes widened as they got closer and Travis laughed upon seeing him. "Yeah, baby. It's what you think it is.

What it was, was a purple Nissan Skyline. "How...?"

"Don't ask. Wasn't legal."

"Travis this car has never been sold in the states!"

"That's cause of how fast it is," Travis said, handing Wes the keys. "His name is Barry. Melanie named 'im. And now, you get to drive him."

"No. No way."

"Yes!" Travis laughed getting in the passengers seat. "We're not racing anyone. Just taking him for a drive. I'll be right here."

Wes got in the car and Travis used the door opener hooked to the visor to open the garage door. Wes backed out of the garage slowly, turning the car so he was facing the long stretch of road. "How fast?"

"As fast as you want."

Wes revved the engine before taking off. They went from zero to a hundred in a matter of seconds and kept climbing. Travis didn't watch the road or the controls. He watched Wes' face and how he kept such control over it and the car. He would have been a great drag racer. Even better than him.

Wes turned sharply, the car's back wheels spinning. Wes kept control and sped off again, his smile growing wider as he did. With each turn he made, Travis could see and feel Wes relaxing but even as Wes was making one handed turns, the blonde still had the vehicle completely under his control. He'd have to bring Wes back to drive Barry again.

There was always a rush and fear that came with driving Barry. Travis could feel the rush, and could really focus on it when he closed his eyes. He wasn't scared this time, though, and he wasn't entirely sure why. He wondered how Wes was feeling. He wished they never had to stop.

When Wes had his fill, he was like a nine year old on a sugar rush. He hopped excitingly as he got out of the car and Travis kept quiet, nodding his head as Wes rambled on and on about how much fun he had. Travis returned the keys to Melanie as he gave her a quick hug, the small woman merely shaking her head lightly as the two walked out and back towards Wes' car.

"We'll come back."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Travis said, deciding right then and there he'd buy the car from Melanie if he had to. "Where do you want to go now? Your pick." Wes shrugged, and from the look on his face, Travis could tell he couldn't think of a place to go. "Where do you go to get away?"

Wes thought about it a second and then shook his head. "It's dumb."

"And you think me travelling an hour just to drive Barry around is smart?" Travis asked cautiously. "It don't matter what it is. As long as it makes you feel better. When I get mad, or I just need to leave, I go see Mel. She gives me a hug and the keys and..." Travis let the sentence hang awkwardly, not sure what else to say.

"There is one place..."

"Well alright! Lead the way!"

Wes just rolled his eyes but took the next left instead of going straight. Travis wasn't sure where they were going so he just did his best to enjoy the ride and zone out the music coming softly from the speakers. It took a over an hour to drive out to Mel's and Wes took another hour with Barry. By the time they got back towards the school, fourth hour hour will have started. Travis wondered if Wes would want to get something to eat. Just as he was about to say something, Wes pulled into a parking lot of a small sandwich shop.

"This is where you go?"

"No, but I'm hungry." The two went inside and waited in line. They debated over which was better, tuna or chicken salad and barely had time to order around their argument. The lady handed them their sandwiches, giggling over how cute they were together. Travis thanked her, making Wes blush and hurriedly walk out the door.

"He's shy," Travis said, shrugging. He laughed the entire way back to the car. He laughed harder when he saw Wes leaning against his car, pouting.

"Why do people think we're together?"

There was a hundred things Travis wanted to say. He was terrified of a real relationship but he wanted one more than anything with Wes. He was sure Wes wanted the same thing. That was obvious after all that had happened. It was also obvious that Wes needed to move on his own time, and so instead of answering, Travis just shrugged but stood close enough to Wes for their shoulders to touch.

When they finished eating, Wes made Travis clean his hands before he could get back in the car. It took a while but Travis started to become familiar with the area they were in. Wes pulled over to the side of the road next to an elementary school. Travis got out of the car when Wes did. They stood on the one side of the gate, watching the kids play for a second before Wes turned and slid down to the ground.

"This is where you go?"

"To the playground, yeah."

There was a look in his eye and Travis couldn't stop himself from asking. "How often?"

Wes shrugged. "Enough. Whenever my parents are...being them."

Travis felt uncomfortable. He wasn't good at stuff like this but he knew Wes probably felt the same way. The blond was opening up to him. He didn't want that to go to waste. "...anything you wanna talk about?"

The other teen shook his head no but something about the way he did it told him yes.

"If you change your mind..." He sounded awkward even to himself. Wes smiled, though, really smiled and Travis felt his heart flutter in his chest.

They were so close again. Wes bit his lip and Travis' eyes followed the motion. Wes leaned forward...

Wes' cell phone rang. Travis leaned back against the gate, watching Wes as he pulled the phone from his pocket. "Hello? Oh, hey dad..."

Travis checked his watch. Sixth hour would just be starting. It didn't make sense for his father to be calling him unless he knew Wes wasn't in school.

"...you called mom? Did she answer? Oh, okay. Yeah, sure. No problem."

"School call your dad?" Travis asked as Wes hung up the phone.

"No," Wes shook his head no, "he just needs me to pick something up in San Diego. He probably didn't even notice the time."

"That's over two hours away!"

Wes shrugged. "I better get going then. Come on, I drop you back off for your bike."

There was a look on his face and Travis didn't know what to do or say to make it go away. When Wes dropped Travis off, Travis set his hand on Wes' knee. Wes stared at it for a second before looking up. "If you change your mind..." It didn't sound as awkward this time and when Wes set his hand on top of Travis' and squeezed, Travis couldn't help but grin.

"Thanks."

"Hey, um..." Travis cleared his throat, "call me later? It's a long drive."

"What?" Wes teased, "Worried about me?"

"Yes."

Wes was silent for a moment, but he smiled again. "Okay."

Travis got out of the car and watched him go before getting on his bike and driving home. He set his phone down on the tool box in the garage, turning the volume up as he started working on the car Money had given him to do.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the heavy feeling in his heart.


	11. Chapter 11

I finished this a couple days ago and have been trying, relentlessly, to send it to my beta, MJ. However, we got a new router and my laptop seems to miss the old one...I can barely get my email to work and Google Docs keeps coming up with his weird message whenever I try to share it with her. So, alas, the editing has been done by me. Any mistakes are mine.

Anywho, this chapter is what the whole story is all about and by that I mean MJ and I planned this chapter together before I ever started writing the first chapter. It is based off of a song called (Kissed You) Goodnight by Gloriana. If you haven't heard it, I suggest listening to it. It is one of my favorites. I'm also not sure how many chapters are going to be left, but the story is coming to a close.

I hope you guys like it! Tell me your thoughts! :)

With Love,  
Kitty!

* * *

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

OR

I Dream of Travis

* * *

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

or

I Dream of Travis

Wes glanced in the rear view mirror, watching until Travis was no longer in his sight. His stomach was in knots and for once, Wes enjoyed the feeling. He wanted so badly to turn around, go up to Travis and kiss him senseless. He couldn't remember a time where he had so much fun, or going for so long without feeling the need to throw up. His only regret was not kissing Travis. The voice in the back of his mind warned him of the dangers, but his heart was happy and Wes choose to believe that over his head, if only this one time.

He hit traffic not long after leaving and sent his father a quick text that he'd make it back with the file as soon as possible. Knowing his luck, the systems would start running again and the papers would just be faxed over before Wes made it back. Still, Wes had to go on the off chance that traffic would move faster than the repair man or face ridicule from his father. He didn't think anything could bring him down but he didn't want to give anyone a reason to, either.

After five minutes and no response from his dad, he texted his mother despite the fact that he was technically suppose to be in school. If either of them noticed, it would be his mother. Wes didn't think she would and wanted to test the theory before it was too late. After another ten minutes, it didn't appear either were going to answer him. He wondered, briefly, if he could talk to Travis about it before quickly pushing the thought out of his mind. He didn't want to scare Travis off.

Wes felt restless in traffic and kept switching the stations on the radio despite only ever listening to the one channel. He stopped on the station Travis always listened to, the harsh melody of a song Wes actually recognized coming through the speakers. It took him a moment but then he remembered it was Travis' favorite song. At least, it was the song Travis seemed to listen to the most. Wes listened to it, trying his best not to cringe. I should have asked Travis to come, he thought, and then chuckled. We would probably kill each other. He turned the station back as the song ended, and leaned back in his seat and allowed his hands to fall from the steering wheel.

"Fuck my life."

It took almost three hours to get to San Diego. Luckily for him - he thinks - the fax machines were still down at the sister office there. Wes walked in and waited in line to go through security. It took ten minutes just to be looked over, something Wes had never been very fond of. It took another ten just to get the security guard to check and see if someone up there was even actually waiting for him. Honestly, did he look like a terrorist or something? The security guard - or officer, as the man demanded Wes call him - was guarding the elevator doors like a dog with his territory. When Wes was finally allowed up, it only took him three seconds to realize he had absolutely no idea where he was going. He took a small look around, trying not to seem too noticeable but at the same time hoping someone would just be ready for him. He wasn't known there by everyone, only a couple of people who worked with his father a couple of times. He knew he wouldn't be able to grab the file and leave. They'd never let him out of the office with confidential information.

The office looked relatively the same, so he walked down the hall until he got to the first receptionist who was actually at her desk. This would be where his father's office was. "May I help you?" the woman asked, looking both disinterested and annoyed at the same time. Wes wasn't quite sure how, but he did his best to ignore it. She looked like she really needed to sneeze.

"My name is Wesley Mitchell. My father is a lawyer at the office in L.A. I guess the fax machines are down because he sent me here to pick some files up." She didn't even acknowledge that he had spoken. "...do you know anything about that?"

"Let me check," she finally said, and picked up her phone. "Sarah?" A pause, "yes, I have a young man here...yes, that is his name. Alright, I will send him to you." She hung up and stared at Wes a moment before pointing down the hallway. "Keep going until you see a redhead. Her name is Sarah."

"Thank you," he said, only trying to be polite. He walked down the hall, ignoring the looks of the others as he went. There was a redhead at the center of the building. Her green eyes lit up seeing him.

"You must be Wesley."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, and then at the look she shot his way, "um, I mean, miss."

"Call me Sarah," she said, and then pressed a button on her phone, presumably to talk to whoever was in the office. "Gabriel...can you and Patrick stop flirting for my five seconds? Wes Mitchell is here. Yes, I have the file..." She rolled her eyes at whatever Gabriel was saying. She turned the phone off and handed him a manilla envelope with a stack of papers in it just as a woman with long brown hair came up to the desk.

"Oh, Thank God," she said, throwing her hands up in the air, "The fax machines have been down for two days. Max tripped some wire and Rick ended up hitting it with his shoe when he went after Max. Everyone is flipping out over those papers."

Sarah rolled her eyes again, "You know how those two are, Megan."

Megan smiled, "Yeah. Oh, can you give these to Patrick for me? He said Gabriel was really riding him hard about getting it."

"Isn't Gabriel always riding him hard?"

The two shared a laugh, and Wes felt completely out of place. He wished Travis was with him. He'd probably end of breaking something or pissing people off, but at least someone else would be standing there smiling awkwardly with him. Or asking questions about the riding hard comment. Either way, he wouldn't be alone.

"Thanks again," Megan said, shaking his hand. He shook Sarah's and told them both to have a nice day. As he passed by the woman from before, who still looked like she needed to sneeze, he took a look in the office behind her. A man was shaking his shoe at a younger man. Max and Rick, he assumed. Wes could not get out of there fast enough.

He got back to his car quickly and started off in the direction of home. The traffic had passed by now, and it didn't take too long to get out of San Diego. He was well on his way home when his check engine light came on. It bothered him, the really rational part of his brain telling him to pull over and pop the hood, but he was on the highway and it was getting late. He could make it home and probably to school tomorrow before anything actually had to be done about it. Repeating that to himself, he kept driving and pushed all bad thoughts from his mind.

Wes turned the radio off after about ten minutes, hearing a strange noise coming from somewhere. He couldn't tell if it was his car or the car next to him or exactly which direction it was coming from, but when his car started to slow down no matter how hard he pushed on the pedal, Wes knew for a fact it was definitely his car.

Growling, he pulled over onto the shoulder as quickly as possible, managing to get there safely before the car came to a complete stop. He turned on his hazard lights and got out of his car, remembering to lock it with the confidential files in the glove box. He popped the hood and looked inside, unable to really see with the setting sun and no flashlight. He remember, vaguely, how his mother had taken his car kit when she needed it the week before. She never put it back. He whipped out his phone and called AA, fiddling with the engine as he did so. He didn't have any tools, so even if he found the problem it wouldn't matter.

We're sorry. Our phone service is temporarily down. Our website and phone app will be able to assist you. We're sorry for the inconvenience. Thank you for your membership.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

He attempted both the website and app, but his phone barely had enough service for calls. He stared at his phone for a second before sighing and calling his father. He was not going to be happy, but really, what else could he do? It rang twice before Wes heard his father's voicemail kick in. He didn't bother and quickly called his mother. It went straight to voicemail and for a second, Wes was at a complete loss at what to do. He checked his contacts, which had less people than he had fingers. There were his parents, a couple 'friends' he couldn't stand, Dakota, Peter, Alex, and Travis.

He couldn't call Peter or Dakota. They were friends but it would be awkward to call Peter for a favor like this, and Dakota would come in a heartbeat, he was sure. But, Peter probably wouldn't be too happy with that and while it wouldn't be anything like that, Wes didn't want to put Dakota in that position. That only left Alex and Travis and Wes wasn't sure which one to call. Before, it would be Alex, at least, Wes thought so. He counted on her, but he counted on Travis, too. Travis had never let him down, Alex had. He should still call Alex, prove something to her but he couldn't. It wouldn't really prove anything important. He scrolled past her name and called Travis.

He answered on the second ring. "Hey, Wes, you home yet?" Wes could hear voices and movement in the back.

"Are you busy, Travis?"

Travis said something to someone else, and then to Wes through the phone. "A little, but nothing major. What's up?"

"Nevermind," Wes told him, now feeling awkward. "I'll call my dad." Total lie.

"Wes, what happened?"

"It's nothing."

"Wes."

Wes sighed. "My car broke down on the way back. I'm stuck on the side of the highway. I called AA and both my parents but..."

"Where are you exactly. I'm coming."

"Travis, that's really not necessary. I'm okay..."

"Where are you?"

With a sigh, Wes told him and Travis told him to hang tight before quickly hanging up. Sighing, Wes got back in his car and listened to the radio. He sat back and closed his eyes, making sure all the doors were locked and the emergency combat knife was under his seat where it was suppose to be. His phone rang - it was almost dead now - and he answered it quickly seeing it was Travis.

"I'm down the road. I can see your car." He hung up before Wes could reply. The blonde got out of the car and gaped openly at Travis, who pulled in behind him on his bike. Right behind him, Money and Wheels pulled up in front of Wes in a truck, presumably for their business as Wes could see some logo on the side. "I told you I'd get you on the bike."

"I'll ride in the truck," Wes said stubbornly, and Travis tisked.

"No room, baby. Bike is the only option."

The blonde rolled his eyes, very aware of the fact that he was pouting. He couldn't bring himself to honestly care. The four of them got to work on hooking Wes' car up on the truck and Wes discovered, much to his dismay, that there really was no room in the truck. He wanted to ride on the bike, at least, part of him did. Part of him was scared, while another was afraid of being so close to Travis.

Travis handed him a helmet, grinning. "Safety first."

Wes half smiled at him and put the helmet on. Travis took the files Wes had grabbed from his car and put them in his small compartment of his bike. Wes stood there for a moment, unsure of how to get on the bike. Travis barked out a laugh, loud and perfect and Wes didn't feel like he was being made fun of, just ribbed on. It still made his cheeks flush. He must look pathetic to Travis right now.

"You're adorable," the darker said instead, and then instructed Wes how to get on the bike. Wes did as he was told and once safely on, Travis told him to hold on before putting his own helmet on. Wes did; he held on as tight as he could, half because he was terrified of falling and half because it was Travis and he could. They took off right after Money and Wheels. It only took Wes ten minutes to feel safe, but his grip on Travis never let up. Not long after, Travis pulled off the highway and pulled into a diner, small, but cute. Wes thought it looked cozy but he would never admit it to anyone.

"What are you doing?"

"We're gonna eat."

"No, Travis, I really have to get back."

"Nah, I think we're gonna eat first." Wes got off the bike as quickly as he could, following Travis who was already heading towards the door.

"Travis," Wes warned, pouting again, "take me home."

Travis turned around and got in Wes' face. They were the same height, but Wes somehow felt like he was being towered over. "I don't have to take you anyway. I will take you home, but first, I want to take you to dinner. Stop worrying and please...please just come eat with me." He turned around and walked inside. Wes followed without a second thought.

Someone sat them quickly and their waiter took their order for their drinks. Wes was looking over the menu when Travis spoke up. "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

"Can I ask you something else?"

"You just did."

Wes hid his smile behind his menu before giving Travis a look that told him it was okay. He must have gotten the message because he sighed, looking torn about whether or not to ask before he said, "you wanna be a lawyer right?" Wes made a noise in the back of his throat. "Do you want to be a lawyer because your father is one?"

Silence spread between them before the younger cleared his throat and said, "No, that isn't why."

"Then why do you?"

Another pause. "I...I don't want to be a lawyer," he admitted, and then gave a small chuckle. He had never admitted that out loud before. "I don't. At all."

"Then why...?"

Wes just shrugged. "It's expected, I guess."

"So what do you want to do?"

"...You're gonna laugh."

"Probably."

Wes laughed then, and when he calmed down, he said, "A detective."

Travis laughed and then Wes laughed and soon neither could breathe. "Why?"

"People need good cops more than they need good lawyers. And if they need a good lawyer, they can call Alex."

"So how are you gonna tell your dad?"

"I'm not."

"Huh?"

"Travis, I'm...I'm gonna be a lawyer. No matter what. I have to be."

"Bullshit," the other responded, earning a look from the table next to them. He smiled and the woman beamed back at him. Wes rolled his eyes. "You can do what you want. You just don't want to."

"...you're right," he said back, and then smiled sadly. "Maybe...maybe. Nevermind. None of that matters now."

"Right," Travis nodded once, and then said, "Can I ask you something else?"

"If I say no, will you shut up?"

"Not at all."

"Then ask."

"What's been bugging you lately?" Wes tilted his head, silently asking him what he was talking about. "I know you, man. Something's wrong. At home, I think. I mentioned your mom the other day and you...and earlier? What you said to your dad. What's going on?"

Wes just stared at him, gaping like a fish out of water. The waiter came and took their orders and Wes prayed Travis would drop it. He didn't. He just stared, waiting. Travis knew him. He knew him enough to see the signs that something was wrong and that hurt. No one else could do that with him and it was such an odd feeling. Wes wanted to scream. He wanted to kiss Travis, too. Instead, he settled on clearing his throat. "My mother is...cheating on my dad."

Travis blinked; once, twice, a third time. "I'm sorry."

Wes shrugged. "I have no real proof and my father has no clue. It's just...she says she'll be somewhere and she won't go there. She goes to the store for one thing and comes back hours later. She doesn't answer the phone and when I ask where's she's been, she lies to me. I...I don't know what to do."

"You shouldn't have to do anything." Travis reached across the table and grabbed his hand. Wes smiled through the slight tears in his eyes and Travis went on the complain about the teachers they shared. It made Wes laugh, and smile, and without realizing, he squeezed Travis' hand and allowed his elbow to rest on the table while he listened to Travis talk.

There food came, and they ate in comfortable silence. When the bill came, Travis refused to let Wes pay. He kept his arm around Wes' waist as they left. It was late when they started back on the road, and even later when Wes finally made it home. He had three missed calls from his father. He didn't care. Travis gave him his file and walked him up to his door, telling him about a constellation in the sky and how his last foster mother taught him all about the stars.

Wes rubbed at the back of his neck as they reached the door. It felt oddly like a date. "Thank you for the ride, and for...um, dinner. It was great."

"Anything for you." Travis shrugged lightly, smiling softly. "I'll take a look at your car tonight and call you in the morning, okay?"

"Okay," Wes said, nodding, and then turned to go inside.

"Hey, wait," Travis tugged on his hand lightly. "I think I deserve a reward, here. I was a pretty good hero if I may say so."

Wes couldn't help but smile. "What do you want?"

Travis turned his head and pressed his pointer finger to his cheek. Wes' eyes widened for a second, unsure of what to do. He looked around and then leaned forward upon seeing no one was around. It couldn't hurt; Travis was asking for it and Wes wanted to, even if it was just on the cheek. Travis turned his head at the last possible second. His lips were soft and if Wes were being honest with himself, which he totally was at this point, he never wanted to stop. Travis pulled away, smiling with hopeful eyes. "I'll call you tomorrow." It sounded like a promise. Wes liked that.

"Okay," he said again and then nearly stumbled into the house. His stomach had butterflies, actual honest to God butterflies and Wes just wanted to carry the feeling with him forever. He closed the door behind him and watched Travis through the window next to the door. He walked back to his bike and hesitated getting on. Wes thought something was wrong and suddenly Travis was sprinting back towards the door. Wes set the file down on a nearby table and opened the door just as Travis was about to knock.

"Travis?" he closed the door behind him, and prayed he didn't want to take the kiss back.

"Um..." but he never said anything. His lips covered Wes' again and he pushed him gently up against the door, their bodies pressed together. Wes kissed back instantly, his hands coming up to Travis' shoulders. He pulled him closer and moaned in the darker teen's mouth, heat filling his body. Travis gripped his hips, his teeth lightly nibbling Wes' lip. A shiver ran through Wes' spine, and Travis pulled back slowly. He didn't even care that Travis was grinning, all too proud of himself. They stared at each other for a moment after pulling apart. "I had to..." Travis apologized. Wes leaned forward and kissed him again.

"I'm...glad that you did."

Travis reluctantly pulled away, holding Wes' hand in his own as he walked backward until they were too far apart. He continued backward to his bike and Wes waited until he was gone before going back inside. He put the file in his father's office and set him a quick text about what happened before running up to his room and closing the door. It was late and he was getting tired.

His mind was buzzing, his body was on fire and when he finally managed to fall asleep, he dreamed of Travis' body against his own.


	12. Chapter 12

Hey, y'all! I'm sorry for the wait of this chapter. It's been a busy couple of weeks for me, but I promise I'm going to start putting aside time to write more. Private Bliss, as we know, is coming to an and, but there should be a couple more chapters(yay!). There must be something wrong with my Docs or something because when I try to share a document with someone, it won't let me still. I must have clicked something for some setting without knowing it...That sounds like something I would do. So, my lovely Beta MJ has not seen this. I'm too lazy to email it and so I edited it myself. Most likely with tons of errors. Still, I really hope you guys like the chapter and I promise to have the next chapter up soon!

Also, remember that Pastor's Son story I was thinking about doing? I started it. Maybe. Yeah, I started it. :)

With Love,  
Kitty!

* * *

Always, Baby

* * *

Travis couldn't get Wes out of his mind. It was a recurring thing that no longer seemed to be a problem. He didn't want to stop. He had never felt as happy as he had when he had Wes in his arms. He felt like he was walking on air. He had never felt this way before, this light happy contently perfect feeling. There was a warmth in his chest spreading through his system. He never wanted it to stop.

When he finally made it to the garage, he took a moment to enjoy the night's breeze. He walked slowly into the building, thankful for the weekend. Money was making sure Wes' car was ready to be worked on when he came in, but moved aside to the car he had been working on earlier. It wasn't for anything on the up and up, Travis was pretty sure he saw that car had been stolen the morning before on the news. He kept his nose out of it and Money would pretend the car wasn't there, even though he was working on it in front of his younger brother.

Money kept sending him glances whenever he could feel his grin getting a little wider than usual, a smirk on his face. Money wasn't stupid. Travis knew he knew it was only a matter of time before Travis broke down, and, maybe, he knew it was only a matter of time before Wes did, too. Travis ignored the looks, and Wheels all together. Wheels had heard about Wes and Alex' break, most likely from Alex. He had been texting her practically nonstop, and while Travis wasn't completely supportive, he couldn't exactly say anything considering his development with Wes.

Wheels taking Alex would solve his biggest problem, but Travis wouldn't be happy with that. Wheels really liked Alex, and on some level, Travis was excited for his brother. Wheels was a lot like him, and seeing him liking someone seriously - and someone as great as Alex - would be nice. Travis liked Alex and wanted her to be happy and she seemed to like Wheels...Travis was unsure how that would affect Wes, and once again, Travis found himself caring more about the blond than anyone else. The whole thing was complicated, there were too many possible outcomes.

Suddenly, he was overcome with the urge to run. To fix Wes' car and drop it off and cut all ties of whatever the hell this all was. The idea was tempting. No matter how much he cared for Wes, he wasn't sure he could ever be good for him. Be the one for him. He wasn't sure he could love Wes like he deserved. Or even if Wes could open up to him. He accidentally squeezed the skin of his finger between two parts and quickly brought his hand back, annoyed with himself. It was then he realized what he was actually doing. He had taken Wes out, the closest thing to a real date he had ever really had. He had kissed him, and now he was working on his car. The car Wes didn't like anyone to touch, and yet, Wes was letting him work on it.

"Hey, T-Bone," Wheels said, coming into the garage for the third time in five minutes. Travis stayed focused on the car and tried his best not give anything away. It seemed like Wheels wanted to speak to him, and Travis wasn't sure he wanted to. Money was glancing at him now, a 'stop being chicken' and 'just do it' look all mixed in one. Money knew best, unless of course their mama said otherwise. He was normally right, though. Before Travis could speak, however, Wheels cringed when his cell phone buzzed with a new text.

"Alex?"

"Yeah..." he rubbed the back of his neck but all Travis did was shrug in response. What was he suppose to say? He didn't even look at him, fearful of what his face might betray. He didn't want to speak to Wheels until he knew how he felt. "I'm surprised you're not more supportive...If I take Alex, Wes can't choose her over you."

Travis' head snapped up. "Shut up, man." The option may solve his problem, but it sat uncomfortably in Travis' stomach, especially when someone said it out loud.

"I'm just saying." Wheels shrugged. "We did it before." Travis closed his eyes, anger seeping into his heart. A year ago, Travis had set his eyes on a girl named Jenny who was with another girl at the time. Wheels had played his charm on the girlfriend, mostly just because he could. Both knew by the way things were going that it wouldn't take long. And, sooner rather than later, Wheels had found himself in bed with her. Travis had been sympathetic towards Jenny and had done his best to comfort her. Travis hadn't honestly meant for it to happen, but he took Jenny to bed the next night. Travis had regretted it since, and he swore right then and there that it would never happen with Wes. He couldn't do that to him.

"I don't want Wes to pick me because you stole his girl. I want Wes to pick me because he wants to be with me!"

"You can't steal someone who doesn't want to be taken away," his older brother defended, and then at the look Travis was throwing him, "Damn, Travis, why are you acting this way?"

"Cause you don't understand."

Wheels snorted, coming closer so he was in Travis' face. "Understand what? That Wes is a little harder to get than your other conquests? That you've been trying to get him for months and Alex is what's stopping you from adding another notch to your bedpost?"

"Don't talk about him like that," Travis said, trying hard not to get angry. Money was watching them intently now, arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the nonexistent car. He'd break up the fight if he had to and bust both of them open for fighting. Travis was not looking forward to that. "Wes is worth more than that."

"Yeah, well, a lot of people you been with were probably worth more than that."

"Wes is worth more than that to me!" Travis screamed, getting right back in Wheels face. Money stepped forward, but stopped when Travis didn't throw a punch. He stood tall for a moment and then turned away, wiping the grease on his hand on his forehead. "Damn...I meant that."

"Never thought I'd see the day," Wheels began to tease, but then stopped, his face falling into a small, almost innocent smile. "I never thought I'd find someone like Alex."

"She is great."

"Yeah..." Wheels said, sounding confused, his smile turning a bit wicked. "Why would Wes give her up for you?"

Travis may have hit him under any other circumstance. He kinda wanted to despite knowing his brother meant no harm. He curled his hands at his sides before slowly releasing them. Part because Money was standing even closer now and part because, honestly, he couldn't help but think the same as Wheels. "Who knows," he said, his voice heavy but heart light, "maybe it was meant to be."

...

Wes woke up feeling like he wanted to punch someone in the face. A moment passed, then another before he realized his phone was ringing. Instantly, the ill feelings left his body. Travis had personalized his ringtone in Wes' phone. It was an annoying rap song Wes couldn't stand. He never changed it back, though.

"Good morning, beautiful."

Wes blushed.

"Are you blushing?"

"Shut up..."

Travis barked out a laugh, yawning as he did so. "I looked at your car...found the issue and took care of it. Easy peasy. Want me to come pick you up?"

Wes started to answer but heard his parents downstairs moving around. "No...I'll walk. No big deal. Besides, did you get any sleep?"

"A little..." A lie.

"I'll be there soon." Wes quickly showered and got dressed. He slowly walked downstairs, keeping tabs where his parents were. His mother was doing the dishes, his father standing close by as he got a cup of coffee. The file Wes had picked up was in his hand. The blond walked as quietly as possible down the hall towards the front door, hoping they wouldn't see him. He reached the door and slowly reached for the door handle...

"Son, where are you going?"

Wes turned sharply, smiling as if he hadn't just tried to sneak out of the house. "Um...to see Travis. He, uh, worked on my car last night and it's ready..."

His father looked annoyed. "Why would you let him touch your car? I have a perfectly good mechanic that we could have taken it to. If he's done something to..."

"Dad," Wes whined, "Travis is a perfectly good mechanic and he did nothing to my car but fix it."

"I heard about his reputation, Wes. I don't like you hanging around with him."

"I don't care."

"Excuse me?"

"What your father is trying to say, sweetie, we're just worried about you. Travis is...different from your other friends."

Wes smiled, "Travis is my best friend." And more. Hopefully. "And you barely know him."

"I know enough."

"You never met him!"

"Wes, why are you getting upset?" his mother asked, "Stop making him upset!" she snapped at her husband. Wes couldn't remember the last time the three of them had been in the same room together, let alone had talked to one another. The last thing he wanted to do was fight with him, let alone about something they didn't know or understand.

"I'm going to see Travis," he told them before practically storming out of the house. He wished he had let Travis come and get him. Imaging the look on their faces when he rode off on the back of the other's bike made him grin. He texted Travis that he left. Travis texted him back instantly, just a simple 'wake me when you get here'. Wes texted him back but Travis was probably already asleep.

Wes felt bad that Travis had stayed up all night to fix his car. He stopped at a closest store to the garage and picked up coffee and some donuts. Wes made it to the garage thirty minutes after he left home, but he actually enjoyed the walk. He forgot how nice L.A was this time a year. It would be winter soon, or maybe it was winter. It wasn't like anyone could really tell. Christmas was fast approaching, though, and He wondered what he should get Travis...

He walked up to the door of the garage, the heavy metal open enough for him to slip under without much difficulty. He could hear light snoring coming from the one wall and slowly made his way over. Travis was fast asleep, body hung over an old couch with his arm slung over his head. Wes smiled down at him and took a second to take it all in.

This could be his future. Travis could be the one who spent the rest of his life with. He could be a detective instead of a lawyer and Travis would stand by that...the thought made to feel giddy. He couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

"Are you laughing at me?"

"No, Trav," Wes said, closing his eyes for a second, "just at myself."

Travis looked at him funny, but instead of saying anything he took the stuff from Wes' hands and placed it on the table by the couch. He gently pulled Wes down to him and, almost hesitantly, kissed him. Wes kissed him back instantly, and Travis wasted no time in deepening the kiss. Wes started to laugh, the giddy feeling from before bubbling up through his stomach and out his mouth. Travis started to laugh too and Wes couldn't even bring himself to be embarrassed.

"I brought coffee and donuts," he said as his laughs subsided.

"Thanks," Travis said, taking the one closest to him and taking a sip. Perfect. He smiled at Wes before grabbing a jelly filled donut and standing up. "Shit," he swore suddenly, practically shoving the donut and coffee in the blond's hands before rushing over to the car next to Wes'. He quickly grabbed a cover for it and set it over, biting his lip when he awkwardly turned back.

"Travis..."

"Wes..."

"Wasn't that...um, wasn't that car...?"

"Stolen?"

"Yeah."

"Um...yeah. It was..."

"Travis..."

"I didn't," Travis defended himself, coming close to Wes. "and Money and Wheels didn't, either. It was a customer...Money is, uh..."

"Chopping it up?"

Travis closed his eyes and turned around. "Yeah."

Wes came to stand next to him, their shoulders touching. "Why did you cover it up? It's not like...I knew their business isn't exactly...legal. You told me, remember?"

"I know," the other told him, "but, I just didn't want you to see it. Plausible deniability. I don't want you involved."

"Are you involved?"

Travis shook his head no. "Money won't let me even if I wanted to. The only time I work around here is when it's legit."

Wes nodded as he handed Travis back his coffee and donut. "So what's wrong with my car?"

"Was wrong," Travis clarified, pointing to the hood. "There was just a loose part hidden down in there. I tightened it back up. I also checked your brakes and your oil...and the tiers. You won't need to go see a mechanic for a while."

"You didn't have to do all that."

"I wanted to."

"How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing," Travis laughed, "I didn't do this so I could get paid. Maybe laid, but...hey, I was just kidding. I promise."

Wes bit his lip, blushing. He stepped back against car, looking down at his feet. He'd be lying if he said he never thought about having sex with Travis before...He had dreamed about it the night before. It terrified him for more reasons than he liked to admit, but under all the fear, he still wanted to share that with Travis. He knew Travis was joking, but even saying it had made him feel a little insecure. Travis was more experienced than he was. Wes had never even gone all the way with Alex, and he had never really thought of being with another guy before.

"Hey..." Travis said, sensing his embarrassment. It only made Wes feel worse. "I...God, baby, I would love to have you." Wes made a small sound in the back of his throat, "I would...but, uh, when you're ready we'll...talk?"

"You're bad at this."

"I started off strong and then...bam."

Wes laughed, his smile wide. He wrapped his arms around Travis' shoulders. Travis smiled, wrapping his arms against Wes' waist. He leaned forward and kissed him, biting on his lip teasingly. Wes made an embarrassing moan but Travis was too close to see the blush on his face. Wes breathed through his nose and sat on the hood of his car, ignoring the voice yelling at him in the back of his head. He pulled Travis closer and wrapped his legs tightly around him before pulling him in for another kiss.

Travis cupped Wes' face in his hand, tilting his head for the best angle. He ran his tongue along Wes' lip, smiling when Wes gasped. Wes was tentative in his movements, holding Travis close to his body, meeting his pulls and pushes. Slowly, he gained confidence and before too long Travis could feel Wes' erection up against his own.

Wes' phone rang, breaking the moment between them. Travis did his best to cover his disappointment. They had just talked about it afterall. It wasn't like they were going to get anywhere. Still, he felt disappointed. Not that he wasn't getting laid, but because he couldn't feel the warmth of Wes' body anymore. There was a look on Wes' face that didn't settle well with him. He looked over to see who was calling before slowly backing up and walking over to grab another donut.

"Hey, Alex..." Wes said as he answered, "how are you?" There was a small silence. "Um...I'm with Travis...Uh, yeah, sure. Where do you want to meet?"

Travis closed his eyes, swallowing the rest of his coffee.

"Sure, I'll be there in ten...See you then." He hung up the phone and then looked at Travis. He didn't like the look on the other's face and took a step forward, but then stopped himself. He owed Travis an explanation. "That was Alex...she wants to talk to me about..."

"I get it, Wes."

"She deserves for me to hear her out."

"Okay."

"Travis. Please..."

"What if she wants you back?"

Wes felt like he had been punched in his gut. What if she did? What if she wanted everything go back to normal? It couldn't even if he wanted it to. He had kissed Travis, multiple times, shared things with him that he never shared with anyone. He would have to tell her the truth if they got back together. It would be easy though, if they did. He could fall right back into his easy, normal life. Make his parents proud and not have to worry about anything. But...God, the sound of it sounded so wrong. It sounded horrible. Wes didn't want that. Wes wasn't sure of everything he wanted. But he wanted Travis. "Then I'm going to feel bad for breaking her heart."

Travis nodded his head, gave Wes a quick kiss before he got in his car and watched as Wes drove away. Wes wasn't sure if Travis believed him. He just wanted to get this talk over with so he could prove it to him.

Wes drove back towards his house, taking the shortest route he knew to the park by his house. Alex was already there, sitting on a bench close by her car. Wes pulled in next to her and quickly got out of the car. She didn't meet him there, or even really look up when he sat down next to her. She was conflicted and he knew that. When she opened her mouth to speak, he couldn't help but cut her off. "Alex...I have to tell you something."

"What is it?"

"I kissed Travis. A lot..." he said, feeling awkward. "Not when we were together but these past couple of days, I-,"

"Wes," Alex laughed, "calm down. I'm not mad."

"Oh...that's good. Um...the thing is Alex...I really like Travis. I want to give him and I a shot and I know that's not really fair to you but I feel like I have to. I...I want to be with him."

"You've changed," Alex said, but there was no resentment or anger in her voice. "You're happy now. I didn't see that before and I'm sorry."

"You're not mad?"

Alex laughed again, "No. I, um, I was actually going to tell you that I think we should make this break offical. I...I've been talking to Wheels a lot and...I like him. It's weird and maybe it'll work, maybe it'll last three days but...I like him."

"He's nice," Wes admitted, "I have to warn you though...the business isn't always..."

"Legal?"

"Yeah."

"He told me."

"Yeah?"

Alex nodded. "I'm not sure how I feel about it. I mean, I don't want to be involved in anything like that and I don't want him to be, either. But...I don't know. I'll figure it out eventually."

Wes nodded, not wanting to get into her business anymore than she was letting him. Alex squeezed his hand as she stood up and leaned down and kissed his cheek gently before starting to walk away. It felt over. It was over. And Wes...Wes was okay. He was better than okay. Travis wasn't his boyfriend, at least, Wes didn't think so but whatever they were, whatever they would be, Wes was okay with that. He was terrified out of his mind, his heart was hammering loudly in his chest but unlike all the other times, he didn't feel like the world was closing in on him. He felt like laughing.

Smiling to himself, he pulled out his phone and quickly called Travis, hoping he wouldn't be waking the other. Travis really needed to sleep, but Wes felt like he had to see him before he exploded. "Travis?" he asked, just as the line was picked up.

"Yeah?"

"I wanna see you."

"You do?" There was a lightness in the voice now; relief.

"Yeah...is that okay?"

"Always, baby."


End file.
